<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Salinity by Katflap (Batman_in_Lingerie)</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27401251">Salinity</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batman_in_Lingerie/pseuds/Katflap'>Katflap (Batman_in_Lingerie)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Infinity [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Angst, Character Death, Drama, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Mental Instability, Mermaids, Mystery, Original Character(s), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 21:07:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>98,495</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27401251</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batman_in_Lingerie/pseuds/Katflap</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p><em> It seemed as though a truce had been struck; not a very strong one and definitely not one born of anything more than the need for survival on one part and the desire to be rid of the half-dead fish thing on the other.</em> </p><p>---</p><p>Clark found something on the beach. That thing turned out to not be as dead as he first thought.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Infinity [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1531352</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>639</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>451</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>IT'S HERE!!!</p><p>Welcome one and welcome all! This is an expansions of the Mermaid!AU from my other story 'Infinite'. This story takes place before the events of Infinite, but it can be read as a stand alone.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> March 3rd 2016 </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>There is something on the beach. </em>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <em> --- </em>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Clark looked up from his journal, his eyes briefly catching the mass that was visible far along the shore line. In another world it could have been something simple; some seaweed carried in on the tide, perhaps a part of some storm worn boat, it could have been an old tangled mass of fishing net.  </p><p> </p><p>It was none of those things.</p><p><br/><br/>Clark didn’t need to get up to know that. </p><p> </p><p>He could see it well enough from here.</p><p> </p><p>It was one of <em> those </em> things.</p><p> </p><p>He debated pretending he hadn’t seen it; to just go on about his day as if it were any other, but that idea didn’t come to fruition. After all, he knew he had to deal with it. Dead bodies were generally not something that would sort themselves out. With enough time, perhaps something would come along and pick at the corpse until it became remains, and then again until even those became nothing, but as it was already enough of an eyesore, Clark didn’t want to wait for it to get any worse.</p><p> </p><p>Even if it would save him the trouble of disposal.</p><p> </p><p>He got up from his desk, stretching his arms above his head, just barely missing the light bulb that dangled down from above. </p><p><br/>His house wasn't much. In fact, some may even hesitate to call it a house, mostly due to its more than passing resemblance to a shack. </p><p> </p><p>So to amend.</p><p> </p><p>His shack wasn’t much. It was small, made of wooden walls and creaky floor boards. That small room however contained all that he required to exist. A bed, a chair, a desk, a small gas oven. He had books to read, and a small radio should he wish to listen to the outside world. There was a tub under the bed and an outhouse out back and that was all he truly needed.</p><p> </p><p>Out here on the island, he was as off the grid as possible. Nothing like city life, or hell, even small town life. His power came from a small petrol powered generator, and water from a crude evaporator he made when he first got here. Occasionally, he would trade with the other nearby islands, but even those encounters were quick and fleeting, with little more than a hello passing between either sets of lips.</p><p> </p><p>No, out here, he was isolated from the world. </p><p><br/><br/>Which is how Clark found himself writing the sentence now stamped in ink inside his journal, as well as the hundreds before it.</p><p><br/><br/>Diana had given him the journal when he first moved to the island, among other items which Clark either promptly traded or threw out into the ocean current to bother someone else with their presence.</p><p> </p><p>Yet despite condemning the other gifts to their fate, the journal did not join them. Instead he held onto it, and in that moment told himself that he would use it as little more than a notebook, ignoring the word emblazoned on the front that begged to differ.</p><p> </p><p>But that intent began to change after the first five months alone. Slowly but surely, the journal became itself. </p><p> </p><p>It became an outlet. An unbiased ear that listened to whatever thoughts ran through his head, no matter how trivial. The best part, he discovered, was the freedom of it, he didn’t have to justify himself to the pages, didn’t have to lie, or coddle. He could write down anything and everything he wanted to without fear of what anyone else would think about it.</p><p> </p><p>It was almost as if it were a person, though Clark never allowed himself to go further down that trail of thought.<strike> <em>A name?</em> </strike>He’d shake his head. He knew that <em>that </em>would be going too far. Too far to be able to return from without lasting effects. <strike><em>What are you afraid of? The insanity or loneliness?</em> </strike></p><p> </p><p>
  <br/>
  <em> Are you talking back to me now?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <br/>
  <strike> <em> Maybe I am, name me and I’ll let you know.  </em> </strike>
</p><p> </p><p><em><br/></em>Eventually they would quiet down. His own thoughts, he’d stress. <em>Not</em> the journal. The journal couldn't speak. It was not alive. It was not a person.</p><p> </p><p>His dependency on the book would be a thing of concern to most normal people, but Clark had forgone normalcy a long ago. Around the same time he moved out here. He knew there were things he needed to do, needed to understand, in order to function. A part of himself knew he <em> needed </em> something to talk to, and he just so happened to find that something, even if it were inanimate.</p><p> </p><p><br/>If anything, the inanimacy was a good thing, given what the other options were.</p><p> </p><p>He looked at the lump on the beach.</p><p> </p><p>They would come to him sometimes. The mermaids. They'd call him. Sing to him. Some would even come out of the water and sit on his dock, waving their tails languidly as they lay, smiling smiles so beautiful Clark could feel some long dead emotion stirring within himself as he’d wait for them to leave.</p><p><br/><br/>Clark found them revolting.</p><p><br/><br/>He always had, ever since he was a child growing up in Smallville. They didn’t deal with mers often, but when they did they looked just like the ones Clark saw now, beautiful faces with beautiful bodies, all the better to trick you with.</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t want to know how many people had fallen for the facade. Didn’t want to know just how many were now nothing more than splinters of bone drifting along the bottom of the ocean.</p><p> </p><p><br/>It was part of the reason Clark felt not so much as an ounce of sympathy as he looked out the window and caught sight of the thing on the beach once more.</p><p><br/><br/>He did however concede that he had to deal with it quickly, lest infer the wrath of the seagulls that would soon be swarming around it. He slipped on his sandals and made his way along the shore toward it.</p><p> </p><p>After a few minutes of walking he came across the lump in its entirety.</p><p> </p><p>It’s body was marred with cuts and bites that still seeped blood. With each wave that washed the shore line, the sand beneath it would grow darker with the leaking fluids. If it weren't for the faintest hint of a heart beat, Clark would have assumed the thing was already dead, and yet there it was; breathing and still very much alive.</p><p> </p><p>For how much longer, Clark couldn’t say. He really didn't have much, if any, experience with <em> near </em> dead mermaids, and didn't know how long it could take for them to pass. He contemplated throwing it back into the water and letting it die at sea, at least then it would hopefully float off and bother someone else and Clark wouldn’t have to be the one to deal with it anymore.</p><p> </p><p>Knowing his luck, however.</p><p> </p><p>He approached the thing, and used his foot to roll it onto his back.</p><p> </p><p>The first thing he noticed was its face. </p><p> </p><p>It had a nice face.</p><p> </p><p>Of course it had a nice face.</p><p> </p><p><br/>The things were never ugly. It was part of their allure. They all looked as though they’d be perfect muses for some long dead renaissance artist, immortalized in paints and marble. Yet they weren’t, instead they were found in encyclopedias, with the moniker ‘extremely deadly’ at the head of the page.</p><p><br/><br/>Aside from its face, it didn’t have much in common with other mermaids Clark had seen. For one thing it was riddled with old scars and aside from the pale milky skin across its chest and face, the rest of his body was a deep blue, almost black in colour. </p><p> </p><p>Yet despite, or perhaps because of the chunks of flesh missing from its body and the cavalcade of cuts, Clark thought it was far more beautiful than any other mermaid he’d ever seen.</p><p><br/><br/>He couldn’t help the loathing he felt for it as a result.</p><p> </p><p>He nearly threw it back in for that alone. </p><p> </p><p>And yet, that didn’t happen</p><p> </p><p>Despite the hatred, he knew what he was going to do, what he had to do. He knew it the minute he saw it on the beach. He reached down and eased the body into his arms. </p><p> </p><p>The thing was heavy, made of muscle and not much else. Most mermaids he’d seen would sit and sing with their pretty bright scales and soft slender bodies, all the better to lull you into a false sense of security with. </p><p> </p><p>Whereas the one Clark currently held looked like it<em> ate </em> those types of mermaids. </p><p> </p><p>How it would lure anyone into the water looking like it did was beyond Clark. At least with other mermaids you could make the argument that they didn’t appear to be vicious killers. This one on the other hand, had Clark wondering what it had to be up against to be the one that lost.</p><p><br/><br/>It could have been a shark, he supposed. Maybe a killer whale. Despite being the dominant ocean species, mermaids couldn't always rely on a pretty face to win a fight, especially when the opponent was a ten tonne whale. It was why they roamed around in pods, there was safety in numbers, making it less likely for them to be picked off by an opportunistic shark or a particularly vengeful fisherman. </p><p> </p><p><br/>Clark eyed the water wearily as he walked back towards his shack. Did this one have a pod? If it did, he assumed they would still be out there, perhaps even keeping an eye on their companion should it make a miraculous recovery.</p><p> </p><p>As he looked, he noticed there was not so much as a ripple along the water to indicate he was being watched. </p><p> </p><p>He kicked open the door to his shack. With his arms full, he used his foot once more to pull the tub out from under the bed and set the thing inside of it, trying his best to keep the blood and gore away from his bed sheets. It was easier said than done as his shack was tiny with just one person inside, and with a mermaid now occupying half the floor space, Clark had to edge his way over to where his cell phone was kept lest step on the thing.</p><p> </p><p>He couldn’t actually remember the last time he’d used his phone. Diana flew to him when she wanted to talk, knowing full well that Clark wouldn’t answer even if she did do him the courtesy of calling ahead first. He opened the drawer in his desk and reached for the phone and the small contact book beside it.</p><p><br/><br/>He flicked through the book idly. There was Diana’s name neatly penciled in near the front. There were names with a single line through them. There were names so thoroughly crossed out Clark couldn’t make out what name used to be there, and there were names with no numbers at all; only addresses to homes that didn’t exist anymore.</p><p><br/><br/>Eventually he got to the contact he was looking for.</p><p> </p><p>It was for a marine biologist Clark had bumped into whilst on one of his trips inland to trade. He’d told Clark he researched mermaids, and had given his number in case one happened to wash up on his beach. Whilst Clark didn’t think much of it at the time, it now seemed like the perfect solution to his problem. He’d call, and then what happened next to the thing was none of his concern. If it died, it wasn’t his problem. If it lived, it still wasn’t his problem. He would be absolved of all guilt, and with that in mind he started to dial the number.  </p><p> </p><p>That was when the screaming started.</p><p> </p><p> <br/>Clark wanted to say he didn’t shriek in surprise, and yet when the screaming started it was definitely only him that could have joined in. </p><p> </p><p>After recovering from the initial shock, Clark shoved the phone and book into the drawer and slammed it shut.</p><p><br/><br/>He slowly turned to face the thing. Despite the fight it showed, Clark could see it was running on fumes. Its attempts to flee looked less like a display of power and more of abject futility. </p><p> </p><p>The thing couldn’t even lift itself up out of the tub, let alone cause any damage to anything other than its own body. </p><p> </p><p><br/>Clark pressed his lips together as he watched it continue in vain to try and escape. After a while it got hard to watch, with its own blood causing it to lose its grip on the tub and slip back against it with a thud.</p><p> </p><p>After a few minutes it quieted down. It didn’t fall unconscious, or die, like a small part of Clark expected it to. It just sat there, its eyes glazed over, its body shaking as it must have realised just how close to death it was. </p><p> </p><p>Clark left the room shortly after. He had to get away from the sight of it. When it was half dead and unconscious it was easy to see it as a thing, as a lump, as a <em> it </em> .</p><p><br/><br/>But awake? </p><p> </p><p><br/>He found his old bathtub behind the shack. It was a lot smaller than his new one, but he still found it handy for some things, like collecting rainwater or washing his clothes. He made his way to the shore and filled it with as much water as it could hold and walked back to his shack.</p><p> </p><p><br/>It still wasn’t moving when he walked in, but its eyes did follow Clark as he stepped inside, and widened by a fraction when Clark started to pour the water slowly from one tub to the other.</p><p> </p><p><br/>With two more trips to the shore, the water in the tub just barely came to the things chest. It didn’t seem to shake as much in the water at least, and Clark wondered if he should try to put his tail in it as well, but decided against it. Especially with how much the wounds were still leaking.</p><p> </p><p>It was as he looked at the seeping wound that he steeled himself and brought out his first aid kit. Whilst he didn’t need it for himself, he did have the occasional fisherman who would dock on his shores in need of help with some small injury or another. </p><p> </p><p>Fishing was dangerous in these parts, and due to that inherent danger, it also came with the benefit of being one of the more lucrative jobs for islanders. With the high populations of some islands and the limited amount of land for growing crops, most if not all people relied on the ocean in some form or another for their food. Reliance drives up price, danger drives it up even further.</p><p> </p><p><br/>Sometimes that danger would mean a scrape and bruise.</p><p><br/><br/>Sometimes it would mean a capsized boat.</p><p> </p><p>Most of the time however, it meant death.</p><p> </p><p>He looked down at the kit and then towards the occupant of the tub. He'd never tried to suture a mermaid before, but apparently this was becoming a day of firsts for Clark. </p><p> </p><p>He expected it to fight, but knew in the back of his mind it wouldn’t. For one thing it had used what little energy it had accrued from lying unconscious on the beach when it tried to get out of the tub. Now, it allowed Clark to handle its tail with only a low growl coming from its throat to indicate that it wasn’t completely happy with the arrangement. </p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t his cleanest work, mostly due to the slippery surface and wiggly patient. He also couldn’t lie about the fact he didn’t care about the neatness of the outcome, only that he wanted to stop touching the thing as soon as possible. </p><p> </p><p>The sentiment was apparently shared. </p><p> </p><p>As Clark put his needle down and got up from his seat, the thing pulled its tail into the water completely, its hands running along the flesh, making sure it was all still there.</p><p> </p><p>Clark rolled his eyes, but otherwise didn’t comment. It wasn't as if it could understand him even if he did. Mermaids didn’t vocalise like humans, they shared more in common with dolphins and whales in that regard. Whilst some had been heard speaking, it was assumed they were only able to mimic the sounds they heard, rather than to properly use whatever language they picked up. </p><p> </p><p>He wondered if there was even a point in trying to explain any of what he was doing to the thing.</p><p><br/><br/>He decided there wasn’t and walked out of the shack, towards his boat. He hopped on board and grabbed one of his fishing polls before going off to the far end of the dock.</p><p><br/><br/>He spent a few hours fishing. At least by looking out into the water, he could ignore the things presence inside his home and as the sun began to go down he even had a few fish to show for his efforts.</p><p> </p><p>Clark knew he'd have to go and check on it eventually. So with a sigh, he got up from the dock and made his way inside. When he did, he saw the thing sleeping in the water, its neck and mouth beneath the surface. It was somewhat comical watching it try to squeeze itself into the tub that had a hard time holding Clark himself in it, but somehow the thing managed it, with only a small part of the end of its fin falling over the edge of the tub. </p><p> </p><p>As he watched, he wondered if it was hungry. </p><p> </p><p>He threw a fish into the tub.</p><p> </p><p>The thing didn’t thrash awake like he had somewhat expected it to, but there was panic in its eyes when they flew open. It quickly looked down to the fish now resting on its stomach, its stare turning curious.</p><p><br/><br/>“It’s food.” Clark said. His voice was hoarse, he cleared his throat. “You need to eat, don’t you?”</p><p> </p><p>Its ears pricked at the sound, but it didn’t make any attempt to eat the fish, its eyes closing once again. Clark heaved a sigh, reaching into the water and taking the fish out, only to hit the thing with it again. “Eat. The. Fish.”</p><p> </p><p>This time, the thing growled at Clark. Clark however did not back down, lifting the fish near its face and holding it there. “I will keep slapping you with this fish until you get the hint.”</p><p><br/><br/>Eventually it did take the hint, and it was when Clark sat back and saw the thing try and move its arms that he realised that maybe it didn’t even have enough energy <em> to </em> eat. Clark cursed to himself as he grabbed the fish back from it again and reached for his pocket knife. </p><p> </p><p>He hacked off a little part of the tail and held it up to the thing's mouth. He was sent a look that read only of suspicion and Clark returned it.</p><p><br/><br/>After a moment of hesitation, its mouth opened, revealing its teeth, sharp and jagged, and Clark gingerly put the piece inside. It wasn’t because he was worried it would hurt him, far from it. He simply didn't want to add a case of shattered teeth to the list that would keep the thing in his home for longer than necessary.</p><p><br/><br/>Luckily it didn’t close its mouth until Clark’s hand was well away. He reached for the knife to cut another piece.</p><p> </p><p>He worked his way through the fish, slowly taking it apart and bringing it to its mouth. Clark debated giving it the little organs in its body, but didn’t understand fish anatomy well enough to know what was good to eat and what was gristle and urinary tracts. He flung the carcass outside and went to prepare his own supper as the thing dozed in the tub. </p><p> </p><p>It seemed as though a truce had been struck; not a very strong one and definitely not one born of anything more than the need for survival on one part and the desire to be rid of the half-dead fish thing on the other. </p><p><br/><br/>Because Clark for all his posturing did not want to be the indirect or direct cause of the death of anything, even a mermaid. Especially when it wasn’t trying to actively kill him, at least not in that moment. No, it was a victim of circumstance and despite taking off the Superman mantal years ago, it still clung onto him like a parasite, sapping whatever malice he had at every turn. </p><p> </p><p>It didn’t exactly leave him with much sympathy for the thing, however. </p><p> </p><p>He knew it must be in a lot of pain, and the tub it was cramped into must not have been helping matters, but as far as Clark was concerned, he was making a sacrifice in regards to his own comfort to tend to the thing, so it should be thankful to even have the tub.</p><p><br/><br/>After frying his fish, he sat at his desk and set down the plate. As he began to eat he looked down at his journal, rereading the short entry written across the page.  </p><p> </p><p>He closed the book.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>March 4th 2016</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Well, it made it through the night.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>I don’t know if that’s a good thing. </em>
</p><p> </p><p><br/>---</p><p> </p><p><br/>The morning had barely begun and Clark already felt done with the day. </p><p> </p><p>Slumped against his desk, he stared out the window towards the horizon, his eyes blurring the line between the pink of the sky and the blue of the sea until he wasn’t sure where one ended and the other began. The longer he stared the more he believed he must still be asleep, that what he was seeing was all in his mind and at any moment he’d wake; but no, he was definitely awake, the painful ache in his eyes was enough of a reminder of that.</p><p> </p><p>Eventually he managed to pull himself from his reverie and turned in his chair, eyeing the body in the tub beside him. </p><p> </p><p>He must admit, he didn’t think the thing would get through the night. </p><p> </p><p>But it did.</p><p> </p><p>It had slept soundly. Barely made any noise.</p><p> </p><p>That made it worse.</p><p> </p><p>When it went too quiet, too still, Clark could feel his heart hammering at the thought of the thing dying right then and there beside him. That scenario ran on repeat in his mind to the point it became nauseating only to be followed by the thought of what he would do should that nightmare actually happen. Would he get up from bed and throw the body out in the water? Would he finally call that marine biologist? Would he remain in bed and pretend he hadn’t heard it die? <strike>Would the guilt finally kill you? </strike></p><p> </p><p>When he had first found it, the things death seemed like a certainty. Had it died yesterday, Clark would have chalked it up to survival of the fittest and moved on with his life. Guilt would have never entered the conversation for it was beyond his control. Now that it had made it through the day however, its death was no longer a certainty. It was only a possibility, one that despite everything, Clark didn't want to see happen.</p><p> </p><p>It was when these thoughts grew too loud to bare that he would sit up in bed and eye the thing intently, waiting for it to move, to give him any indication it was still alive aside from that faint heartbeat.</p><p> </p><p>Eventually it would do just that, its hand would twitch, its eyelids would flicker and occasionally it would make a noise. After seeing these displays that showed that, yes, it was indeed still alive, and yes, you won’t wake up next to a corpse <strike>again</strike>, Clark would lay back down in his bed only for the cycle to repeat about an hour later. </p><p> </p><p><br/>He didn’t know how much actual sleep he got that night. He was fairly certain at points he was sleeping with his eyes open, with the fog of a dream beginning to creep into his vision only to dissipate when he heard the thing grow too quiet once more. He was thankful when morning broke. Not only did it end the torturous cycle he found himself trapped in, but it reassured him, as though the idea of it managing to get through one night made it impossible for it to die now and Clark could stop worrying about it so much.</p><p> </p><p>He kicked the blanket off of himself and sat up, rubbing his eyes to try and get rid of the sting in them. With the thing now a fixture in his home and knowing he wasn’t going to get any more sleep anyway, he rose just as the sun did, and after writing a quick entry in his journal, made his way outside, walking along the beach as the sun made its way higher and higher.</p><p> </p><p>The warmth of the sun brushed against him and his fatigue slowly lifted. It was still there, but it had significantly lessened, and if he stayed out in it a while longer he knew it would go completely. The upside of being solar powered, Clark mused.</p><p> </p><p>It was as he walked further down the beach that he came across the spot where he’d found the thing the day before. </p><p> </p><p>There was no sign that it had even been there. The sand was washed clean.</p><p> </p><p>That was often the case with the island. No matter what happened, what storm it had to endure or how high the waves were that rolled in, it always returned to how Clark first remembered finding it. As though nothing had changed in that time. As though nothing<em> could</em> change it.</p><p> </p><p>He looked out at the water.</p><p> </p><p>It was nearing three years since he’d moved out here. Three years since he first found this place and built his shack. Three years since Metropolis. </p><p> </p><p>It didn’t feel like it though. </p><p> </p><p>Time had a way of distorting itself out here, especially when you were on your own.</p><p> </p><p>Days would bleed into weeks, into months, until one day you’d find yourself looking out across the water realising it had been three years since your life was irrevocably changed. </p><p> </p><p>He didn’t like to dwell on it.</p><p> </p><p>Sadly. he had a lot of time to dwell on it.</p><p> </p><p>He squashed those thoughts down for now and moved his mind onto other things. Like his plan for the day.</p><p> </p><p>Aside from a few scant todo lists, he never gave himself a strict schedule. He found the less he planned, the less disappointed in himself he’d be when he inevitably didn’t do it. He supposed he could tinker with his boat some more. The engine was starting to sputter again, and whilst he did have some money saved up for a new one he didn’t want to waste it whilst the thing still had some life in it. </p><p> </p><p>He could also do some more fishing. Last time he made his way over to Cottonwood, Lucy, the shopkeeper he'd taken to trading with mentioned how low supplies were getting since one of the fisherman lost his boat to the mers. Now the town were having to make do with what they could catch from land. Which wasn’t much considering how the mers liked to cut and tamper with the lines.</p><p> </p><p>He walked back towards his home, a vague idea of what was to be the rest of his day in mind.</p><p> </p><p>Of course all that flew out the window when he stepped inside his shack. </p><p> </p><p>The thing was out of the tub.</p><p> </p><p>Well, half out of the tub.</p><p> </p><p>The thing hadn’t even stepped fully off of death's doorstep before it appeared to be trying to hurry back there as soon as possible.</p><p> </p><p>Clark stood for a moment, regarding the thing though narrowed eyes. Most of its lower body was still in the water, but it's hips were what must have halted its escape. They were caught on the edge of the tub, leaving its upper body dangling over the side, its head hanging low in apparent defeat. Clark tried not to laugh at the image. </p><p> </p><p>He approached it and watched as it tried to turn itself to him, succeeding only after exerting what looked like a monumental amount of energy. Its arms shook from the strain of holding itself up from the floor as it eyed him warily. Clark however only had eyes for the suturing he had done only yesterday, now torn and seeping with fresh blood. He heaved a sigh. “You’re a moron, you know that right?”</p><p> </p><p>At least it had the decency to look somewhat sheepish. Whether it was from being caught trying to flee or from the blood now collecting on the floor, Clark didn't know, and despite wanting to leave it there to teach it a lesson in humility; Clark did eventually go forward, and lifted the thing back into the water.</p><p> </p><p>It didn't protest from what Clark could gather. It made a few sounds in the back of its throat that sounded like they could have been, but it didn't try to push or scratch at him, so as far as Clark was concerned, the thing had accepted things as they currently stood.</p><p> </p><p>Those ‘things’ being; “You are going to die if you keep acting like a dumb shit.” Clark said as he stared hard at the things face, trying to infuse the same energy from his voice into his expression. </p><p> </p><p>The thing didn’t respond to either.</p><p> </p><p>Clark sighed. </p><p> </p><p>He got up from his seat and grabbed the first aid kit. He gestured for the things tail and after more than a little coaxing, he was able to sew it up. Again. </p><p> </p><p>This time it didn’t try to pull its tail away as soon as Clark was finished, opting instead to flick it, causing the fins at the end of it to slap against Clark’s thigh. He tried to stop himself from frowning. He failed. “You’re welcome.” He deadpanned.</p><p> </p><p>The thing tilted its head to the side at the words, eyeing Clark for what felt like an inordinately long time. The sole thought that lingered in Clark’s mind was how bright it’s eyes were, a shade of blue so light they practically shone. The longer he looked at them the more his mind grew fuzzy. He quickly looked away, his cheeks growing hot.</p><p> </p><p>He then realised what he had done and scowled. “God fucking damn it.” He muttered, wiping his face. The thing had only been there a day and it was already messing with his mind.</p><p> </p><p>At the words, Clark heard the thing let out a quiet chirp, similar to a cat's trill. He quickly sent his scowl upwards towards it. “You’re a goddamn nuisance.” He ground out.</p><p> </p><p>There was no response. Not even a chirp this time, but those ears flickered again, trembling in the air before falling still. Clark watched them intently as he spoke. “Can you even understand me?”</p><p> </p><p>The ears trembled again, but as soon as Clark stopped speaking, they fell still. Despite feeling as though this was pertinent information, Clark neither cared nor understood enough to do anything with it. Instead he sighed. “Alright, so you can’t understand me, but you know i'm not going to hurt you, right?”</p><p> </p><p>At the raised inflection at the end, the things' eyes went wide. It moved its head in what Clark wanted to say was a nod, but again, knowing as little as he did about mermaids, he couldn’t say. Instead he simply continued. “So, if you know i'm not going to hurt you, you know you shouldn't try to escape again before you’re healed, right?”</p><p> </p><p>Again, that same aborted nodding motion at the intonation. Clark stared at the thing a little while longer, before he got up and placed the first aid kit away. </p><p> </p><p>Despite their presence on the planet molding humanity into its current state, not much was actually known about the mers that plagued the oceans. Whenever scientists attempted to learn and document them, whether in the wild or in captivity it always ended the same way. Death. Either for the poor saps who decided to take a boat out into mermaid infested waters or for the mermaid who would kill itself when caught rather than be kept in a tank and studied. </p><p> </p><p>In death, some things can be learnt about mermaids at least. Simple things about their biology but nothing that could help Clark now. No, there was little known about their language comprehension, nor if they could truly speak like a human beyond mimicking what they had heard. In the water, they have been heard communicating much like whales do, through songs and clicks, but out of the water was another matter entirely.</p><p> </p><p>Then there was their hierarchy, something that humans still don't have a concrete answer for despite how many cameras have been sent into the water to observe them. The most that could be said was that they live in communities, much like humans do, but migrate to different waters dependent on the season. It was part of the reason Clark suspected this one landed on his beach. The water was getting warmer and with that brought mermaids.  </p><p> </p><p>But that idea invited more questions than answers. For one, why weren’t there any others with it? If it were migrating, surely there would have been others. Surely they wouldn’t have left it to die if it could have been saved. He knew mers could be ruthless, but to do that to one of their own seemed especially cold blooded. Even now, when he’d cast his eyes out towards the water, he’d expect to see a huddle of mers in wait, but no, no matter how many times he looked to the water, it was as still as when he first found the thing half dead on his beach.</p><p> </p><p><em>It could be alone,</em> was the answer he would receive whenever he thought about the things pod. It wasn't as though it was a concrete hypothesis that all mermaids lived in groups. For one, there were various species of mers out there each with their own habits and lifestyles. It was likely Clark had simply found one of these different mers. A kind that was solitary. </p><p> </p><p>Eventually Clark decided he’d had enough thoughts about mers to last a lifetime and resolved to spend his day being productive and to not dwell anymore on the temporary annoyance in his life. He got up and made his way to the door.</p><p> </p><p>The thing screeched.</p><p> </p><p>Clark winced, and even though he knew what made the sound he slowly turned to the thing all the same, his lips curled downward. </p><p> </p><p>The thing gave another screech, that Clark quickly realised must have been its attempt to talk. Clark’s eyes blew wide as he shook his head. “Stop, stop that-” when it didn't, he rushed towards it, putting his finger over it’s lips. “You sound awful.”</p><p> </p><p>The thing’s brows furrowed together and it reached for Clark’s finger. It pulled it away, and stared at the digit. This time when its mouth opened, the sound it made was still awful but at least didn't make Clark want to pop his own ear drums to avoid hearing it. There was also still the problem that Clark didn't know<em> what</em> it was trying to tell him. “You need to understand, I don't know what you’re trying to tell me.” He said, despite knowing the sentiment was shared.</p><p> </p><p>The things ears twitched and this time, instead of speaking, it pointed to the door, then motioned to itself, moving its body side to side before pointing to the door once more. Clark’s eyes narrowed. “You want to go outside?”</p><p> </p><p>There was a moment where the thing made a face, as though ready to agree but stopping itself. Clark realised it probably didn't know what question Clark was actually asking him so didn’t know how to respond correctly. Rather than play the guessing game with it any longer, Clark decided to act instead. He brought his hands to the tub, and lifted it up. The thing yelped at the movement, but as Clark made his way out the door the thing gave what Clark could only assume were chirps of agreement as they continued towards the water.</p><p> </p><p>Clark set the tub down on the sand, not far from the water, but the thing simply stayed seated. After reopening the wound on its tail, Clark could only assume it didn't want a repeat. So with only a touch of reluctance, Clark reached into the tub, and slid his hands under the things tail and arms, lifting it up and walking it a few paces towards the water. He set it down and stepped back. “There.” He said, gesturing his hand to the water.</p><p> </p><p>The thing looked to the water, then to Clark, then to the tub, then back to Clark, before it slowly inched its way further into the water until its whole lower body was submerged. It sat there for a moment, and Clark saw the muscles of his back tense up as he remained in place. For a moment Clark stood staring at the mer, his frown growing as he tried to figure out what exactly it was doing. </p><p> </p><p>Then it dawned on him</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.” Clark said, his eyes blowing wide. “Oh yeah, I forgot you must need to, uh-” Clark turned away, clearing his throat. “I'll let you do... that.” </p><p> </p><p>He faced the shack for a minute, and only turned back around when he heard movement in the sand. The thing was making its way slowly back towards the tub, and as it moved, Clark realised it wasn’t going to be leaving any time soon. Its tail was out of commission and having to rely on its arms entirely must be tiring the thing as even the short distance between the tub and water had its whole body shaking.</p><p> </p><p>It sat beside the tub, sending an expectant stare Clark’s way. Clark wanted to say he didn’t relish the idea of becoming the things servant, but he had little choice if he wanted it to actually heal and not tear its wounds open every time it needed to use the bathroom. Even with those eyes on him, he didn’t go for the mer straight away, approaching the tub instead. He lifted it up and emptied the blood tainted water into the ocean before dipping it under the waves and refilling it.</p><p> </p><p>After setting the tub back inside, he made his way back out to retrieve the thing. It came into his arms easily, even bringing its hands to Clark’s shoulders to stabilize itself when it was lifted up.</p><p> </p><p>Once back in the tub, it seemed to finally relax, but as Clark went about making his breakfast he realised he’d need to feed the thing, too. In fact, it was dawning on him that the thing edging more into the ‘alive’ category and further away from the ‘half dead’ one, meant he was going to have to start doing a <em>lot</em> more for it. Wonderful.</p><p> </p><p>Clark opened the cooler beside the stove top, and looked at one of the fish inside. He gave it a cursory sniff, and when he found it wasn’t totally inedible, he brought it over to the thing. “You hungry?”</p><p> </p><p>The thing didn’t nod or speak, but it did lift its hands towards the offered fish and all but snatched it from Clark, bringing it to its lips and gnawing on the skull.</p><p> </p><p>The grimace on Clark’s face could neither be called subtle nor unjustified. “<em>Ew.</em>” He let out as he saw its tongue snake into the eye socket. </p><p> </p><p>At least it's able to feed itself, Clark thought as the thing slowly made its way through the fish. That alleviated one of the burdens, at least. It still left a bunch for Clark to deal with, but for now he was happy he could at least leave the thing alone, knowing it had been tended to.</p><p> </p><p>In the end, he didn’t do nearly half of what he wanted to do with his day, but he simply blamed the thing and moved on. Tomorrow would be a new day, and so would the day after that. In fact, with each one that passed he would be brought closer to the day where he’d finally be rid of the thing and be alone once more. That was what he had to focus on.</p><p> </p><p>If he didn’t, he might go mad.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Chapter 2, done B)</p><p>I hope you all enjoyed it! Also, I just wanted to say I am so happy to hear all of you guys are hyped for this fic. Honestly, it motivates me so much to read all of your lovely comments, so I just want to say thank you for leaving them &lt;3 </p><p>Catch you all next time ;D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> March 17th 2016 </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>The thing is looking better. Hopefully that means it’ll go soon. </em>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <em> --- </em>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Despite the new addition to the household, very little of Clark’s daily routine changed. </p><p> </p><p>His days were still spent largely the same; either fishing, fixing things around his home or boat, or sleeping. Of course he now had to tend to the thing in the tub, but other than that, things weren’t so different. </p><p> </p><p>He was having trouble keeping track of the days, though. Sleeping didn’t help; especially with how broken his nights were becoming. Had it been seven or eight nights since the thing invaded his home? He couldn’t remember anymore. </p><p> </p><p>According to his journal entries it had been closer to two weeks since ‘the arrival’. Clark found writing in his journal everyday was at least a somewhat reliable method of keeping track of the days. He did sometimes forget to write, which was how he ended up forgetting his own birthday until Diana was stood at his door, cake in hand ready to remind him.  </p><p> </p><p>Really, aside from having to lift the metal tub out onto the beach to let it sit outside for a bit and do whatever business needed tending to, it was easy to take care of. Sometimes it would try and talk in that God forsaken screech, but though the advent of pointing and gestures Clark was able to prevent it from shattering any glass trying to communicate.</p><p> </p><p>Every time Clark did take him out to the water, he half expected to see an empty tub when he’d go to collect it. The thing would get out of the tub, now without needing Clark's help, but it never strayed far, opting to sit in the shallow water, and only occasionally edge its way into the deeper area under the jetty. It was apparently still incapable of swimming, or just didn’t trust itself to not die immediately after leaving the relative safety of Clark’s island. Either or.</p><p> </p><p>After the first few days they fell into somewhat of a routine. Clark would wake up, lift the tub in his arms and take it out onto the beach and set it on the lapping shore, letting the thing do whatever it needed to, then come evening Clark would come back to refill the tub and carry them both back inside.</p><p> </p><p>The routine also gave Clark some much sought after solitude. Being alone for over three years made having even a mute lump for a roommate too much to bear at points. Even though he knew the thing couldn’t understand him, it had still taken to looking at him when he’d talk to himself. Its ears quivering at the sound, its eyes curious and bright. Clark found himself keeping quiet to avoid those looks, he didn’t like the attention it gave him, so having it out of the house for most of the day was a win win for him.</p><p> </p><p>There was a problem, however.</p><p> </p><p>With the thing less dead something became very apparent. It was nocturnal. When it was half dead it slept through the nights. Now however, it slept during the day, having taken to doing so underneath the jetty causing Clark to tread quietly along the planks, lest wake it up, when he’d have to go to his boat. </p><p> </p><p>The thing however showed him no such courtesy when <em> he </em> tried to sleep. </p><p> </p><p><br/>During the night it made noises, sounds that reminded Clark of a cats trill. When Clark ignored them, they'd grow louder until he was doing those same awful screeches that rattled Clark to his core.</p><p> </p><p>He soon realised he preferred it when the thing was half dead. At least when that was the case, it was his own concern that kept him awake at night and not the fact that the thing was an inconsiderate asshole. </p><p> </p><p>When it would screech at him during the night, Clark would carry it back out to the water. After an hour or so of fitful sleep Clark would be woken to the thing calling him once more and he’d reluctantly retrieve it.</p><p> </p><p><br/>After the nightly 'swim' it would be quiet at least, but somehow Clark could <em> hear </em>it looking at him, it’s unblinking eyes creating a cacophony of sound where there was none. It would be silent and yet, when Clark opened his eyes to the idea of a sound, he’d find those eyes on him. Watching him. </p><p> </p><p><br/>Despite the stares, the cries and the occasionally splashing of water. Clark was able to get some sort of rest every evening, even if it was short.</p><p> </p><p>Of course, leaving him outside during the night was a thought he had when he realised it was nocturnal. Especially with how every evening he was now having to carry it outside and wait for it to call him just to drag him back in, anyway. He could just ignore him until he got the hint. He had brought headphones a while ago for the very purpose of ignoring mermaids, so it seemed fitting to use them now.</p><p> </p><p>One particular evening, he found out why he wouldn’t be able to do that.</p><p><br/><br/>According to his journal, it had happened on the 14th. He had been walking back inside after carrying the thing out, his feet shuffling through the sand and his mind focused only on planting his face directly into a pillow, but before he got there he heard something. The thing was making noises again, but they didn’t sound like they usually did.<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>He nearly ignored it. He wanted to, but something in the sound told him he had to look, so he did. He turned around and when he did, he saw them. </p><p> </p><p>There were heads poked up from the water close to the shore. In fact, there were a number of them. <em> Is this his pod? </em>Clark thought to himself as he heard them talk to one another with their chirps and calls. </p><p> </p><p>But none of it sounded friendly.</p><p><br/><br/>No, very quickly Clark knew this wasn’t the thing’s family. They were the same sort of mers that would sometimes come to his island and call for him; he supposed the general hostility was due to them never having to deal with a mer <em>already</em> being there. </p><p> </p><p>The thing itself was providing more than its own fair share of aggression in return, screaming at the bodies in the water as it batted its hands against the sand, teeth bared.</p><p> </p><p>The others grew quiet at the display. They simply watched and waited. For what, Clark couldn’t say. For him? For the thing? </p><p> </p><p>The thing then became silent too, tensing its body as though primed and ready to attack, and as the seconds ticked by Clark half expected it to do just that; to charge at them and do what Clark could only imagine got the thing onto his beach in the first place.</p><p> </p><p>Clark however, didn’t want to tempt fate by letting this go on any longer, especially with how well it was already healing. The last thing he needed was for it to undo all of his hard work by trying to take on a pod of mermaids alone. He sighed as he walked over to the thing and picked it up easily, throwing it over his shoulder.</p><p><br/><br/>The thing yelped as Clark adjusted him. He then turned away from the mermaids and reached down for the tub with his other hand. He ignored the thing as it trashed and screamed, trying in vein to escape his grasp and go towards the suddenly vocal mermaids in the water. </p><p> </p><p>He set the tub down and all but threw the thing in it. He sat on his bed, his tiredness forgotten for the moment as he looked at the thing.</p><p><br/><br/>Maybe he should have let them fight, best case scenario his mermaid problem would get solved. Worst case scenario however involved a lot more near dead mermaids littering his beaches. The thing didn’t seem pleased by Clark's decision either way, growling as its hands gripped the metal of the tub so tightly Clark thought it might dent. </p><p> </p><p>After a while it seemed to calm down, ducking down into the water and growing quiet. It still didn’t sleep despite the energy it exerted; its stayed awake and watchful, its eyes never leaving the portion of the beach still visible through the open door.</p><p> </p><p>Clark debated closing it, but in the end didn't. For one thing, the idea of having to get up from his bed to do so made his brain hurt, and in his sleep addled mind he decided he just didn't care enough. If the thing wanted to climb out of the tub and go into the water to fight the roaming mers, it was free to do so; Clark wasn't going to stop it again.</p><p><br/><br/>Eventually, sleep did come and sure enough when he awoke, it was still in the tub.</p><p> </p><p>In fact, every night after he woke, Clark would be surprised to still see the thing there. </p><p> </p><p>It looked bored out of its mind, but it was still there.</p><p><br/><br/>It would perk up when it saw Clark start to stir, and Clark would have to ignore it as he got up and got himself ready. Once he had taken care of himself, he could then go about making sure the thing was dealt with. Not before.</p><p> </p><p>He wrote in his journal, and when he returned from the outhouse and saw it still sat there that he wondered why he didn’t get up out of the tub itself. The door was open, he wasn’t too far away from the shore line, and it wasn’t as though it still wasn’t capable of getting out the tub itself. It looked fine now.</p><p> </p><p>But there it was, still waiting for Clark's help. His resentment was palpable as he lifted the tub outside and waited for the thing to get out and shimmy its way into the water.</p><p><br/><br/>He didn’t know what triggered it, but after he emptied the tub, he didn’t refill it. Opting instead to take it back to his shack and put it back under the bed. Where it belonged.</p><p> </p><p><br/>When he walked back outside the thing was still sitting in the water, not making its way to the jetty as it normally would. Instead it was looking at Clark, its head cocked to the side. </p><p> </p><p><br/>Clark knew it wouldn’t be able to understand him and yet he still spoke. He moved closer, waving his hands outwards as he did. “Go on. Get.” </p><p> </p><p><br/>The thing didn’t move.</p><p><br/><br/>“Get!” Clark yelled, kicking some sand towards it for good measure. “You’re all healed up now. You don't need to be here anymore, so fuck off.”</p><p> </p><p>Clark didn’t hang around any longer, already feeling his ambivalence towards the whole situation setting in. It was whilst he cooked breakfast and caught sight of the tub now under his bed that he felt a stab of guilt go right through him.</p><p> </p><p>He walked back onto the beach and looked for the mermaid in its usual spot under the jetty.</p><p><br/><br/>It was not there.</p><p> </p><p><br/>He gave a cursory look out into the water and didn’t see anything other than a school of tuna swimming off in the distance.</p><p><br/><br/>“Good.” Clark said to himself, ignoring how his stomach wriggled uncomfortably at the thought of what he had just done.</p><p><br/><br/>He didn't care, he tried to tell himself, hoping for some small part of his earlier hatred for the thing to come back and squash the feeling of unease in the pit of his stomach, but it didn’t. In fact he wasn’t feeling much of anything in that moment.<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>He hated those things with a vengeance. Would have happily let the thing rot if it weren't for the hassle it would have caused.</p><p> </p><p>But he hadn’t done that. No, instead he went out and looked at the thing. Saw its pretty face, and got sucked in just like every other idiot who ever dealt with a mermaid.</p><p> </p><p>At least he got rid of it. That thought at least did something to comfort him. It was gone now, and Clark would never become one of those saps who preached for mermaid rights, just because the thing chose <em> not </em> kill him.</p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t even that it could. That was the hilarious part of it all. The thing was none the wiser as to what he was, what he could do. To it, he was just a normal fisherman, and a small part of Clark wanted it to realise that he was anything but. Wanted it to know that even if it wanted Clark dead it wouldn’t happen, and Clark would laugh if it had tried, as though the greatest joke of all time had been told.</p><p> </p><p>He finished his breakfast and made his way out onto the jetty, cursing to himself when he realised he was treading carefully. He stomped the rest of the way for good measure and sat himself on the end of it, hoping the act of fishing would block out the doubt he was feeling.</p><p><br/><br/>It didn’t.   </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The end :) </p><p>I'm kidding! Blue will of course be back ;) But for now, who knows where he will go, or what Clark will do without his lump of a room mate. Tune in next time to fine out ;D</p><p>Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! As always, lemme know your thoughts! Until next time :D :D :D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>March 18th 2016</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>I had a weird dream last night.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I dreamt I was deep down under the ocean. There was nothing around for miles and I floated down there for what felt like hours. Even now, when I close my eyes, I swear I can still feel the water.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>---</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clark thought with the thing gone he’d finally sleep well. In a way he did, and in another, he didn’t.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Take last night. It had been blissful in its lack of nocturnal mermaid activity, but in lieu of that, something else chose to occupy his mind.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A dream. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He tried to rationalize that as far as dreams go, this one wasn’t a bad one to have. He was lucky in a way, as he’d had a few dreams when he first got to the island that were anything but empty and the way he’d feel come morning was a lot worse than the way he did at the moment.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The strange part was Clark couldn’t put his finger on <em>why</em> it had unsettled him. It wasn't a bad dream, per say. He’d had worse. A lot worse. It was just that nothing had actually happened; it was unusual for its complete lack of anything noteworthy.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When he awoke and tried to piece together the fragments of it all, there was very little for him to actually make sense of. He had been deep down in the ocean, that much he was sure of, but he couldn’t make out anything through the murkiness. There was no light all the way at the bottom. It was complete darkness, that not even an errant fish interrupted. He was completely alone. Just him and the water.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But in and amongst that emptiness there <em>was</em> something else, it was the only reason Clark could think of that led to him waking with a shiver despite the warmth in his cabin come morning. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A part of himself knew there was something out there in the water. The entire time he was floating there, he half expected it to show up. What exactly he was waiting for, he didn’t exactly know, but as he floated there in the water, the only thing consuming his mind was that there was something coming and at any moment, he’d see it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Then he woke up.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As the dream faded, the feeling of anticipation went with it, replaced only with a vague sense of unease that wouldn’t leave no matter how much he tried to push it away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>A part of himself wanted to focus on it, maybe there was something the dream was trying to tell him and he'd need to focus in on it to understand, and yet, another part told him to keep away from thinking about it, to block it out like he had all his other dreams and move on.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><span>But boredom, combined with little else going on in Clark’s life now that the lump was gone meant he couldn’t help but revisit the dream as the day went on. The strangest part of it all was that Clark couldn’t even remember a time he had actually gone into the water, apart from... </span><strike><span>Metropolis</span></strike><span>. </span><em><span>No, it was before that.</span></em> <em><span>The water was calm. There were no screams, no concrete, no-</span></em></p>
<p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <strike>
    <span>No? </span>
  </strike>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The longer he pondered, the more the presence of a faint memory came to light, and the longer he stayed on it the more it began to flesh itself out. Yes, he hadn't been in the water since-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Since...</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Since?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strike>
    <em>
      <span>Don't.</span>
    </em>
  </strike>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Clark shook his head, willing his mind to other things. He had plenty of experience doing that at least, and as such by mid afternoon, he had almost completely forgotten about the dream and was able to go about his day in relative peace.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>With the thing no longer present, the island had returned to its usual state. Clark spent most of the day ensuring everything was in working order; from his boat to his tools. He tended his small plot of crops, the bed of flowers on the other side of the island, and finally as the day wound down, he sat on his jetty fishing until the sun had hidden itself once more.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He liked to think he was doing okay, to think otherwise was to invite a whole host of unpleasant thoughts into his mind, but as he sat staring at the bobber floating along the surface of the water, doing his best to not dwell on his dream, he couldn’t ignore the uncertainty from yesterday and all the days before it creeping back up on him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The thing had not come back to the island. Some small part of him thought it would have done, but another part wondered if the reason it hadn’t was because it was already dead. He tried to rationalise that it was fine, that it was alive. So what if it was still a bit worse for wear when it had left? The likelihood of it actually dying not even twenty four hours after leaving was surely minimal.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But that was it, it was only minimal, not nonexistent. As such, it was still very much a possibility. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He thought to the mermaids he saw in his water that night. At the thing screaming as they simply watched</span>
  <span>. Would they have found it in the water when it left? What would they have done now that there wasn’t a beach between them? Would it have been able to take them?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Clark sighed as he reeled in the line and unhooked the small fish from the end. He placed it in the bucket, and thought about throwing his line in once more, but the monotony of fishing was not helping to distract him like he hoped. He picked up his bucket and walked back into his shack. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>During the night, he sat in his bed watching the shore through his open door way. He didn’t know why he had taken to sleeping with it open, but as he fell asleep his eyes trained on the water he knew his night would be occupied with the same dream as the night before. He could only hope he was wrong about there being something waiting for him in the waves. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Just a short lil update. Hope you all enjoyed! If you did, please be sure to let me know! I love hearing from you all :'D </p>
<p>Until next time :D :D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>March 21st 2016</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span><br/>
</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>I thought I saw it last night. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I could see its head poking out of the water, watching me. By the time I got up from the bed and  walked toward the shore, it had sunk back down into the waves. Thing is, when I woke up this morning, I can’t say if I really saw </span>
  </em>
  <strike>
    <em>
      <span>him</span>
    </em>
  </strike>
  <em>
    <span> it, or not. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe I was dreaming. I really can’t tell anymore.</span>
  </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>---</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>March 26th 2016</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strike>
    <em>
      <span>. </span>
    </em>
    <em>
      <span>Fix engine</span>
    </em>
  </strike>
</p><p>
  <strike>
    <em>
      <span>. Tend crops</span>
    </em>
  </strike>
</p><p>
  <strike>
    <em>
      <span>. Get supplies </span>
    </em>
  </strike>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Went to Cottonwood today. Lucy said I looked nice. I think it's the shirt I was wearing.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>---</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>March 27th 2016</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I know I saw it this time. </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span><br/>
</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span><br/>
</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>It wasn’t dark yet, I had just gotten in from fishing and when I looked out toward the water, it was there, I </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span> it was there.</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span><br/>
</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span><br/>
</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span><strike>He</strike> It tried to hide, but I saw.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>---</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>March 29th 2016</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The engine died again. Last night I ended up stranded in open water, I was laying in the cot all night just waiting for the mers to show up, but they never did.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span><br/>
</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span><br/>
</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe they know to keep away from my boat? I can dream, can’t I?  </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>In the morning I flew back to shore to pick up my tools, and managed to fix it up enough to get it back to land. Need to remember to get a new engine tomorrow.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>---</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>March 30th 2016</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strike>
    <em>
      <span>. Get new engine</span>
    </em>
    <em>
      
    </em>
  </strike>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Reminder: </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Do not</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span> go to ‘Ole Sal’s’ again. Sal is an asshole.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>---</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>April 2nd 2016</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana is here.</span>
  </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>---</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He finished writing the words and got up from his chair. The door was closed but he could see her standing just outside, her hand hovering over the wood as though she were still contemplating her visit. She eventually rapt on the door, and Clark opened it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>She looked him up and down, the corner of her mouth quirking downward as she did. He didn’t know if it was due to the shaggy beard which he had to assume was not looking too great, or the wrinkled shirt he had been wearing for well over a week now. Could have been both. Could have been the smell even. He bleakly realised there were a lot of things a normal person may take umbrage with in terms of his hygiene. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Clark.” She ended up saying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Diana.” He said, his voice coming out huskier than he anticipated, he cleared his throat. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>She didn’t come inside the shack. She rarely did. She opted instead to pull Clark out from his ‘hole’ as she had taken to ‘not-so-affectionately’ calling it, and walked them out onto the beach. Clark didn’t have any shoes on but that didn’t stop her as she started to walk along the shore line. “I haven't heard from you in a while, how have you been?”</span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fine.” Clark said evenly. He had been, for the most part. The thing had all but left his mind. <strike>Has it really?</strike></span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just fine?” Diana asked in that gentle voice she used on children and evidently, Clark.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” Clark bristled. “Diana, why don’t you just tell me why you’re really here?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn't realise I needed a reason.” She frowned. “I told you, I haven’t heard from you in a while, so I came to check up on you.” She folded her coat over herself, despite it being April there was still a chill in the air. Clark barely noticed it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He rolled his eyes, hoping he had been subtle but when Diana whirled on him, her anger palpable, he realised he hadn’t been.</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Clark held up his hands, hoping to prevent another rant before it started, but knew the odds of that were slim. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. It’s just that I don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>ask</span>
  </em>
  <span> you to check up on me, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“No, but if </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> don’t,</span>
  <em>
    <span> you</span>
  </em>
  <span> sure as Hell won’t.” She stopped and pulled at the collar of his shirt with the tips of her fingers, as though wanting to keep in minimum contact with it “Look at you, Clark.” She made a face as she wiped her hand on her side. “You look and smell like a locker room floor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Well, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> drop in unannounced.” Clark muttered, though there was little venom there. Truthfully, he knew that even if he </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> received a warning from Diana, the likelihood of him doing anything with that information other than flee, was next to none </span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“You let me know how I can arrange a visit, I’ll do it. Until then, I’ll keep doing things my way, okay?” She walked away from him, and Clark had no choice but to follow after her. </span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look, I know you worry, but all I’m saying is you don’t have to.” He reached for her, his fingers brushing against the fabric of her coat. He marveled at how soft it was. All his clothes were coarse with sea salt. It was surreal to feel something that hadn't been tainted by the sea in some way.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know I don’t</span>
  <em>
    <span> have</span>
  </em>
  <span> to.” She sighed, turning to him. “Clark, we're friends. Friends look out for one another and I like to think if the situations were reversed you’d be doing the same thing for me. In fact, I hope you would.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Clark folded his arms; the fledgling burn of anger welling up inside. “Don't do this.”</span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do what?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The burn grew. “Don’t throw the ‘friend’ card at me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Diana’s face slowly morphed to one of incredulity. Whatever rant he had managed to prevent was going to be coming back with a vengeance, apparently. “The ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>friend’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>card?” She asked and despite the thunderous expression, her voice was remarkably even.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Well, no use in backing down now. Clark squared his shoulders. “Yeah, the friend card. It’s how you try to win every argument. You pull it out and wave it in front of me until I do what you say. Every time, without fail.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Diana’s mouth fell open. “How can you even say that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Because it annoys me that you make this about you. How </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> feel about me living here. How </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> feel about how I dress. You you </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Because you don’t seem to care about how it affects </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” She threw her arms out, storming towards him. “You don’t care that you’re wasting away out here. You would happily die out here all alone if you could. I come here to make </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> realise that there are people who still care about </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>, despite how much</span>
  <em>
    <span> you</span>
  </em>
  <span> want to forget that!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not ‘wasting away’.” Clark tried to look somewhat earnest as he spoke, but Diana didn’t appear to be buying it. “Look Diana, I know it's hard for you to realise but I am happy out here. I enjoy being alone.” He said, and Diana’s eyes only filled with pity. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Clark, you’re not happy. You </span>
  <em>
    <span>were</span>
  </em>
  <span> happy. You were happy in Metropolis-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Nope.” Clark cut in before she could keep talking. He walked away, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Don’t do this. Not again.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“No. Don’t walk away from me, Clark. You </span>
  <em>
    <span>need </span>
  </em>
  <span>to hear it! Every time it’s the same, you act like you're over what </span>
  <span>happened, but you're not. You need to </span>
  <em>
    <span>talk</span>
  </em>
  <span> about it instead of living in this self inflicted prison!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“This is not a prison!” He yelled back, his hands curling into fists. “I can leave at any time, I just don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> to, why can’t you just see that and let me be?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Because you're lying to yourself! You feel guilty, and this</span>
  <em>
    <span>-” </span>
  </em>
  <span>She gestured around herself.</span>
  <em>
    <span> “-</span>
  </em>
  <span>is how you deal with that feeling, can’t you see that? </span>
  <em>
    <span>This</span>
  </em>
  <span> is your punishment. You’re atoning for what you did, but Clark you did nothing wrong. I saw what happened that day and you did everything you could. Lois would-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was gone before she could finish. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hadn’t flown far, just to the other side of his island by the bed of flowers, but eventually Diana got the hint, flying away and leaving Clark to seethe in peace and quiet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stood by the flowers for what felt like hours. Eventually he made his way back to his house, sitting back on the desk and opening his journal. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>April 2nd 2016</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana is here.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Why does she always do this? Every time I see her it’s the same shit, over and over. What does she want from me? I don’t change my shirt for a week and suddenly I’m in need of professional help? She's delusional.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t ask for her ‘opinion’ and she gives it anyway. I don't need her. Maybe one day she’ll see that.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe I could find another island? And then </span>
  </em>
  <span class="u">
    <em>
      <span>not</span>
    </em>
  </span>
  <em>
    <span> tell Diana where it is, this time.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>---</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He slammed the book shut. He still felt awful. His stomach wriggled uncomfortably as he tried to push her words from his mind. She didn’t know what he felt, that's what pissed him off so much. She acts as though she knows him more than he knew himself, just like-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He cut off that thought before it would swell up in his mind and cut off all other thoughts. He got up from his bed and reached for one of the books on his shelf, not caring which one. He flipped it open and tried to focus on the lines on the page instead.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It took awhile but eventually he managed to tune everything out. The rest of the day passed him like a breeze. Soon it was evening again, and then before he knew it, it was morning. It seemed as though he’d blink and a new day would be dawning. He put the book down and rubbed his blood shot eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He opened his journal. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It had been two days since Diana.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Ohohohohoho, now we're getting into some plot ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) </p><p>Diana does not get paid enough to put up with Clark's shit. Anyway, this was another lil chapter but the next one is longer B)</p><p>I will say now however, that I will be starting a new job in Dec so sadly I won't be uploading every week anymore. Don't worry, I don't want it to get as bad as it was when I was writing Infinite and Sunshine (Y'all remember those 9 month hiatuses, those were f u n ) but it will probably be longer between updates for a lil while. Once i'm more settled in my job I hope to get it back to semi regular updates, but we shall have to see! </p><p>I will say you're lovely comments and kind words are what keep me going, so lemme know your thoughts! And I will catch you all next time!! &lt;3 &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> April 14th 2016 </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I had that dream again. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I’ve been having it nearly every night. I don’t even know what to think about it anymore. </em>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <em> --- </em>
</p><p> </p><p>As Clark awoke that morning, the tendrils of his dream clung to him. The feeling of tight pressure all around his body, the sound of water, that same feeling of anticipation. Every morning he’d wake and hope that this time he’d receive that burst of clarity he so desperately sought; that single thought that would finally let him know what he was seeing every night, but that didn’t happen. Instead, he’d only experience that same cloudy sense of ambiguity that told him it was for the best he didn’t know.</p><p> </p><p>He looked down at the short journal entry he had made and brought his hands to his face.</p><p> </p><p>He really hated to admit it, but perhaps Diana was onto something. The journal wasn’t working like it used to. It seemed no matter how much he wrote he didn’t feel better. He remembers a time, long before he came to the island, where he’d speak to Dinah about the minor or major problems that plagued his mind. In hindsight, those worries and fears seem laughable. A cruel joke that only sought to torment him. One in particular began to rise to the surface.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ‘But Dinah… What if I’m terrible? What if I do everything wrong?’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ‘Clark, that's part of the experience, besides-’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>He groaned as he crushed his fists into his eyes. It didn’t hurt, but the pressure against his skull helped to smother the errant thoughts once more. <em> This is why you don’t think about Dinah, why you don’t think about any of them, if you do you know you’ll think of- </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <strike> <em> Who, Clark? </em> </strike>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Not. Now. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Closing his eyes, he willed himself to empty his mind. He succeeded somewhat, but was reminded of what pulled him down into the newly emerging pit of his mind the moment he looked down at the words before him.</p><p><br/><br/>He had thought the dream was about a time before Metropolis, but Diana’s visit had him second guessing that idea. Now, it was as though everything was bringing him back to that day. He didn’t want to admit that though as the torrent it would unleash if he did would break him and he knew it. </p><p> </p><p>After a few more moments of forcefully squashing down any thought that chose to make itself known, Clark reached for the page of his journal and turned it to the entry from the day before.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> April 13th 2016 </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strike> <em> .Collect rainwater</em> </strike>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> .Sell tuna  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> --- </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Ah yes. The tuna. He had been lucky whilst fishing the day before, and managed to catch a good number of skipjacks and thanks to some plastic crates and ice breath, he was able to chill them until he could go out and sell them. He could have done it yesterday, but it was already getting dark by the time he was finishing up and he knew Lucy’s would be open early the next day, anyway. </p><p> </p><p><br/>He passed a comb through his hair, but as some of the knots were too matted for the comb to deal with, he instead settled for swiping his hands over to try and smooth it down. He then got dressed, throwing on some clothes that he hoped didn’t smell too terrible. As he eyed the pile of dirty laundry on the floor, the thought struck him that he could do some washing whilst at Cottonwood. There was a small laundromat on the island that was far superior to Clark’s bucket and soap method and it would mean Diana wouldn’t grimace at him so much when she next came to harass him. </p><p> </p><p>He wasn't going to do it, of course. But he could have done. </p><p> </p><p>The trip over was uneventful. He saw a few mers as he got closer to Cottonwood but it nothing to get too worried about. It was generally known that the more populated an island was, the more mers liked to pester and stalk the shores. He supposed that's why he only dealt with them infrequently at best. Unlike Cottonwood. </p><p> </p><p>Clark ignored their calls as he hopped from the boat, his arms laden with tubs of tuna. He walked through the streets, recognising a few of the locals. He passed by Ole Sal’s and barely fought back the frown when he saw the old man through the window. Of course he couldn’t blame him for being more than a little jaded when they'd last spoke. Making a living out here was hard. Clark knew that first hand.</p><p><br/><br/>He saw Lucy's general store ahead and pushed open the door with his shoulder. He was not prepared for the barren shelves before him, nor the clearly stressed cashier behind the counter. Her eyes went wide as Clark walked up to her. He nodded to the doorway leading to the back. “Lucy here?”</p><p><br/><br/>The girl nodded, getting off of the stool and walking through the curtain separating the two rooms. After less than a minute, a small woman walked in. Her hair was pulled back, revealing strands of silver in and amongst the blonde. Her glasses were askew as she squinted at Clark, a smirk pulling her lips. “You’re a sight for sore eyes. You do something with your hair? It looks nice.” Her attention soon went from Clark to the crates he held. “Please tell me that's for me.”</p><p><br/><br/>“Who else?” Clark said as he set down the tubs, patting the top one with his hand. “What will you give me for em, Luce? It’s skipjack. Got about twenty in all.”</p><p><br/><br/>She sighed, her hand gesturing to the empty shelves. “Not much, as you can see. I got cash up the wazoo, but I know you prefer-”</p><p><br/><br/>“Naw, if you got money, I'll take the money.”</p><p><br/><br/>“You sure?” She crossed her arms. “Tom should be bringing in some milk later, I can give you the lion's share?”</p><p><br/><br/>Clark shook his head. “Yeah, I’m sure. I’m thinking of heading to Redding from here. I can spend it there.” He hadn’t been planning that at all. Truthfully, he didn’t like straying too far from his island, but the barren shelves told him that was his only choice if he wanted to get some supplies.</p><p><br/><br/>She pressed her lips together. “Only if you're sure.”</p><p><br/><br/>“Of course.” He nodded. “Now come on, this stuffs fresh, you need to get it out quick.” Lucy walked to the register and opened it. After she handed over the money, Clark didn't count how much she gave him as he shoved it into his pocket. He knew she would give him a fair price. It was why he went to her and not the other vendors around Cottonwood.</p><p><br/><br/>Clark looked around the room once more. “I take it things haven't been going well.”</p><p><br/><br/>She sighed as he wrote down his receipt. “That's putting it lightly.” She muttered. “With Colin’s boat gone, no one’s been heading up to Redding, and no trips to Redding means I can’t replenish my stock, so we’re making do with what we have here, which as you can see-” She waved her hand around. “Isn’t much.” </p><p> </p><p>"Can't you get the folks at Redding to bring the stock over?”</p><p><br/><br/>Lucy laughed at that. “You should see the prices they quoted us when we called and asked. You’d think we were asking for each crate to have a personal escort. We’re desperate, but if we pay what they want, it would bankrupt every trader on this island.”</p><p> </p><p>“What about the nets? You must be able to catch something with them. Enough to keep you going, at least.”</p><p><br/><br/>“They’re gone.” She said quickly as she began to move the crates one by one to the back. “They went a few days ago actually, some mers came in and cut them all, so now we’re trying to get what we can with the lines, but still.” The girl from earlier stepped out and began moving the crates to the back instead, allowing Lucy to sit by the register, her head in her hand. “I’m doing what I can Clark, taking whatever people can give me for the goods I have, but when I run out and haven’t got anything else to give, people start getting desperate and desperate people don’t tend to act rationally.” </p><p> </p><p><br/>Clark knew that first hand. “What are you low on?”</p><p><br/><br/>She laughed. “Everything. Fuel, food, fresh water. You name it; we’re out.” She brought her hand to register once more and opened it, gesturing to the crumpled notes shoved inside. “The only thing I got any amount of is this shit.” </p><p> </p><p>“So how many boats are left?”</p><p><br/><br/>She thought for a moment. “Sal, Antonio, Porter and Steve still got theirs, and Sal’s boy has one too, though it's a rusty old thing. You’d think Sal would be able to fix his own boys boat up, but what do I know. I ain’t a mechanic.” She shrugged. “Anyway, Antonio, Steve and Colin used to be the ones to go to Redding for us but after Colin lost his boat, nobody else wants to go out and use theirs.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, they’re gonna have to.” Clark said, crossing his arms. “What? Are they just gonna let you all gonna starve instead?”<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>Lucy huffed. “You’re telling me. I tell them we need food or we’ll starve and then they just talk about the ‘shipment’, and you better believe I’ve been down to that dock and yelled at Porter till I was blue about the Goddamn ‘shipment’. Everyday he says to me ‘tomorrow Lucy, tomorrow I promise’.” She shook her head. “I swear sometimes those idiots at the shipping office have no idea what's coming and going and just wing it and hope for the best.” </p><p> </p><p>Clark narrowed his eyes. “What's this about a shipment?”</p><p><br/><br/>Lucy crossed her arms and sat back. “We don’t get all of our supplies from Redding. Each trader gets their basic stock every week in the Sacramento shipment. You know, things like bread, flour, fresh water, etc. Thing is, we haven't gotten one in about two weeks now. Porter swears blind it's coming any day now, but I don’t buy it. He had too much flop sweat for someone telling the truth.”</p><p> </p><p>Clark nodded, more to himself than anything. “I don’t know what I can do about the missing shipment. But whilst I’m at Redding, I could gather some things up for you.”</p><p> </p><p><br/>Lucy perked up at that, her hand going for the register. “In that case…” She pulled out a selection of notes, sorting them into a somewhat neat stack and holding it out to Clark. "Here, it's what I'd pay the boys to get my stock for me. Take it."</p><p><br/><br/>“Luce, I-”</p><p><br/><br/>“Yes you can.” Her face was resolute. “This-” She waved the wad of money around, “-means <em> nothing </em> to me right now. When people are hungry, and there is nothing to go around, money ceases to have value. If you go to Redding, you can get my stock for me. Talk to Simmons, he runs the wholesaler there. I'll call and tell him you’re coming on my behalf-- in fact, i'll tell him you're coming on the whole island's behalf. A bunch of other traders are waiting on their Redding orders so if you picked up there's too I know they’d be eternally grateful and hell, I will personally give you a discount for life for helping me outa a tight spot.”<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>Clark reached for the money, his lip quirking upwards. “For life, huh?”</p><p><br/><br/>As Clark gripped the stack he felt Lucy's grip tighten for a moment, a playful smile on her lips. “For a week. Month tops.”</p><p><br/><br/>Clark rolled his eyes. “Ever the pragmatist. Thanks, Lucy.” He went to the door. “I’ll be seeing you.”</p><p><br/><br/>She sent him a smile. “Damn right you will. Don’t think I won’t come for you if you don’t bring me my crates.”</p><p> </p><p>He waved goodbye, but before he made his way back to the docks, Clark stopped by Sal’s. He had intended to try and find Antonio and Steve, but given he didn’t know them beyond a name he settled for Sal’s instead. The old man's head shot up the moment he stepped inside and Clark held up his hand as the man's mouth fell open. “The engine’s fine. Where's your son?”</p><p><br/><br/>Sal closed his mouth, turning his head. “Marcos, get in here.”</p><p><br/><br/>A young man walked in, rubbing his grease stained hands on a cloth as he came from the doorway behind the counter. “What?”</p><p><br/><br/>Sal jutted his head towards Clark. Marcos opened his mouth. “Look, if this is about the engine-”</p><p><br/><br/>“I'm not here about the engine.” Clark said blandly before continuing. “I’m here ‘cause I hear you know the guys who usually make the trips up to Redding to pick up stock for the traders.”</p><p><br/><br/>Marcos nodded. “Well yeah, but they’re not going anywhere at the moment. If you need something, I’d talk to Lucy, she-”</p><p><br/><br/>“She got jack shit and you know it.” The two men looked away and Clark went on. “Look, I came here for a reason. I'm asking if you could tell me where they are. I’m making a trip up to Redding myself and I figured if anyone else wanted to come and help, they could.”</p><p><br/><br/>Before Marcos could respond, Sal held his hands up. “Not happening. Colin barely got out alive when the mers sunk his boat, it's too dangerous to go anywhere right now.”</p><p><br/><br/>Clark frowned. “Yeah and that danger ain’t going anywhere. The mers aren't going to just go away on their own and all of you are going to starve in the meantime.”</p><p> </p><p>Sal pursed his lips. “We’re just waiting on a shipment from Sacramento. It's gonna come in any day now.”</p><p><br/><br/>“Sure and in that time, how many of you are gonna have to go hungry? You got kids on this island, don’t you? How many of them are gonna starve ‘cause you’re all afraid of a few mers?”</p><p><br/><br/>Sal’s frown only grew. “Look, we’ve dealt with this before, we can deal with it again, so why don’t you just go on and head back to your little island, <em> forastero </em>and leave us alone.”</p><p> </p><p><br/>Clark ground his teeth. “<em>Fine </em>, I was just offering because-- as I mentioned already-- I’m going there to help all you people, but fuck me I guess.” He burst out the door, his pace quick as he marched towards the docks.</p><p> </p><p>It was as he was unmooring his boat with more vigor than was strictly required that he heard footsteps coming towards him. They were quiet, as though the person making them was unsure of each step. He turned and watched as Marcos came to a stop before him, his arms crossed. Clark didn’t say anything as he waited for him to speak, and eventually he did, his voice just as quiet as his steps had been. “Hey, I wanted to apologize. I know my father can be an asshole, but it's because he’s scared. The Sacramento shipment was meant to come in a week ago and it didn’t, Porter says he’s tried calling them but they gave him the runaround. We need supplies but-”</p><p><br/><br/>“So come with me.” Clark said easily.</p><p><br/><br/>Marcos gulped as he looked out to the water. “But, the mers…”</p><p><br/><br/>“I know you’re scared, but when I tell you, you don't have to worry, I mean it.”</p><p> </p><p><br/>Perhaps it was due to the truly desperate situation or maybe he actually believed Clark’s words, but Marcos eventually nodded. “Okay… I just need to talk to Lucy and-”</p><p><br/><br/>Clark simply nodded. “I already did. She’s gonna call Simmons and tell him we’re coming. We’re also picking up the other traders orders whilst we’re there.”</p><p><br/><br/>Marcos tilted his head. “You know for an outsider, Lucy trusts you a lot.”</p><p><br/><br/>“She’s desperate.” Clark said easily as finally finished unmorring his boat. Marcos went to his own, which happened to be right beside his. Clark didn’t say anything about its less than stellar appearance, but had to agree with Lucy’s summation that it truly was a rusty old thing. </p><p> </p><p>Marcos however didn’t seem to pay much mind to the condition of his boat, as he simply shook his head at Clark’s words. “Lucy is too proud for that, even if she were desperate, she wouldn’t ask for help from someone she didn’t trust.”</p><p> </p><p>Clark shrugged as he went to start the boat. “Maybe it's my smile, then. My Ma always used to say I had a nice smile.” </p><p> </p><p>Marcos didn't look convinced but only gave a small shrug of the shoulder as he hopped onto his own boat.</p><p> </p><p>Clark’s boat took the lead, with the dinghy that he was apparently to call Marcos’ boat following after. Of course, Clark couldn't say much. The only reason he had a nice boat was because he found it. He had to assume it once belonged to some rich family, as it was closer in specs to a yacht than a fishing boat, but some storm of another brought it out into the open water where Clark eventually found it. Sal on the other hand, most likely built this one to sell and when no prospective customers wanted it, it became his son’s. </p><p> </p><p>At first that wasn’t an issue. The small boat managed to keep up with Clark’s with little issue, and even when a few mers brushed past the side as though testing its durability, they didn’t linger after that, as though admitting it wasn’t going to tip with the amount of mers present. Six, Clark counted, and after their brief appearance they disappeared down into the water once more.</p><p> </p><p>The problems arose about thirty minutes into their journey.</p><p> </p><p>Redding wasn’t that far from Cottonwood. An hour by boat at most, and unlike with Cottonwood, the mers became less of an issue the closer you got to Redding. It was a rather busy port for shipping and trading with other nearby islands, and unlike Cottonwood, Redding was far more capable of dealing with the mers that chose to try.</p><p> </p><p>The thing was, they weren't close to the island yet, they were still in open water and as such the threat of mers was very much a possibility.</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck.” Clark heard the quiet expletive though he wasn’t meant to. When he turned towards Marcos’ boat, he saw it start to slow down. </p><p> </p><p>Clark didn’t need to be told what had happened, the sudden silence of the boat's engine told him enough. He cut his own engine, and made his way to the port side. “You alright over there?” He called out.</p><p> </p><p>Marcos turned to him. “The engine died.”</p><p><br/><br/>“Great.” Clark said flatly. He looked out towards the horizon and saw the barest glimmer of land way off in the distance. “I’ll pull in closer. I got rope, I can tow you the rest of the way.”</p><p> </p><p>Marcos didn’t object, not that Clark thought he would. He didn’t really have a choice in the matter. It was either this, or staying stranded until someone else happened by. As such, Clark started his boat once more, and pulled in just in front of Marcos’. He bumped it, which ordinarily would have at least caused a quiet sorry to come from Clark’s mouth, but when he stopped the boat and came to the stern and saw that the dent he made was indiscernible in and amongst all the others, he said nothing.</p><p> </p><p>He went to his cupboard and pulled out two long reels of rope and made his way onto the swim platform at the back of his boat. He nodded towards Marcos. “Tie this end around the railings on the bow, then climb over and hop onto my boat.”</p><p> </p><p><br/>“Climb over?” Marcos asked, looking at the foot of choppy water that separated the two boats.</p><p> </p><p><br/>“Yes, climb over.” When Marcos’ expression didn’t change, Clark sighed. “You won’t fall in.” </p><p> </p><p>“But-”</p><p><br/><br/>“You won’t.” Clark stated firmly. “Now come on, mers love to fuck with stranded boats.”</p><p> </p><p>He’d said it to try and hurry him, but they way Marcos’ hands shook as he tied the knots around the railing told Clark he probably should have omitted the word ‘mer’. The worst part was they weren’t poking their heads out, but they were here. Clark could see them swarming underneath the boat as Marcos tied the knots. Twelve of them now.</p><p> </p><p>Eventually Marcos crawled out across the bow, and with the help of Clark, hopped onboard. Clark grabbed the other reel of rope, and tied each end to the side rails of his own boat. He then grabbed the end of the rope connected to Marcos’ and went about tying the two together.</p><p> </p><p>In the midst of tying the knots, he heard a sharp exhale. "Oh, fuck." Marcos yelped, and when Clark whipped his head around he saw the reason. A single mers head poked out of the water, just beside the swim platform. Marcos quickly scrambled up the steps, away from it. </p><p> </p><p>Clark eyed it, saw the way those eyes followed his movements. He held onto the rope tightly.</p><p> </p><p>The mer flung itself onto the boat and Marcos let out a scream unlike one Clark had heard in recent memory, it hit him like a punch in the gut, the fear, the desperation, just like-</p><p> </p><p>He let go of the rope and went to the mer, reaching for its neck and lifting it high in one burst of movement. Its gills convulsed as water poured from them. It let out growl, fierce and low as its hands scrambled at Clark’s arm, scratching at his skin in vain. More mers poked their heads out of the water, watching Clark. </p><p> </p><p><br/>“You fucking piece of shit.” He growled. “I should kill you.”</p><p><br/><br/>His hand tightened, as though contemplating that idea, and yet, when the mer turned those frantic eyes onto him, he didn’t. He instead went to the edge of the platform and flung the mer out into the water. </p><p> </p><p>The mers screamed as it flew across the water, and when its body splashed against the waves, it, as well as all the others that had been with it, retreated back down under. Clark looked down at his own hand, at the salt water and slime that was still covering it and let out a long sigh.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh my fucking God." Clark barely registered the voice at first, but when he did he turned slowly towards it. "You're..." Marcos’ eyes were wide, his voice was full of awe. “You’re Superman.” </p><p> </p><p>The word caused Clark to wince. "I don't go by that any more." He muttered as he picked up the rope.</p><p> </p><p>Marcos however, wasn’t done, he scrambled back down the steps onto the platform beside Clark. “I can’t believe it! You are! You’re Superman!”</p><p><br/><br/>“I-” but Clark didn't have the rest of that sentence planned and as such let that single syllable hang in the air as Marcos continued to stare at him with those same bright eyes. “It's really not the big of a deal.” Clark settled on.</p><p> </p><p>“Not that big of a deal?” Marcos scoffed. “You can fly, you can shoot lazers from your eyes, and you’re saying it's <em> ‘not a big deal </em> ’.”</p><p><br/><br/>The lazers, right. Clark paused. He always forgot about the lazers. “Yeah, well, I don't do any of that any more.”</p><p><br/><br/>“Right, I heard after the Metropolis tsunami you went awol.”</p><p> </p><p>Clark closed his eyes, taking a breath. “Uh huh.”</p><p><br/><br/>Perhaps Marcos had more tact than Clark gave him credit for, as he dropped that line of conversation quickly, opting instead to clear his throat and send a shy smile towards Clark instead. “I won't tell anyone about you being… you know.”</p><p><br/><br/>“Thanks.” Clark ended up saying, and despite how flat it was, he actually did mean it. At least, he thought he did.</p><p> </p><p>He finally finished tying the knot and let go of it. “Right, stay near the back and holler at me if the ropes become undone.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure.” Marcos said, his earlier trepidation now completely gone. He even sent him a mock salute as Clark climbed the few steps off of the platform.</p><p> </p><p>Before he reached the top, Clark heard the slapping of a body on wood.</p><p> </p><p><br/>He barely had time to turn, as did Marcos, who stumbled back and away from the mer now on the platform with him. He was too slow, as its hand snaked around his ankle, tugging him down. When Clark caught its face, he knew it was the same one from before. By the time Marcos hit the floor with a shout, Clark was rushing over to them.</p><p> </p><p>But he didn’t have to pull the mer off of Marcos.</p><p> </p><p>Because another mer did it for him.</p><p> </p><p>Clark grew still, looking at the mer now on top of the first. "You." He let out.</p><p> </p><p>The thing looked at him, its teeth still firmly in the spine of the other mermaid. The injured mer twitched, its hand spasming around Marcos’ ankle, and before it could try and escape, the thing pulled back and brought both hands to the mers neck, snapping it easily. It then let go, looking up at Clark with what he could only assume was fondness. </p><p> </p><p>"Oh my God!" Marcos yelled as he scrambled away from the mers, kicking the dead one in the head for good measure. He went to Clark, clinging onto his ankle.</p><p> </p><p>The thing growled, his eyes narrowing at Marcos. </p><p> </p><p>"Hey." Clark bent down and bopped it on the head. "Don't growl, you ingrate." Clark stood up and with the leg not currently being used as a safety blanket by Marcos, pushed the corpse into the water. The thing went with it, taking the hint and not needing Clark’s foot to assist. He didn’t go back into the water fully however, looking towards Clark as the body bobbed in the water next to him.</p><p><br/>Clark didn't know what to say. “Uh.” He cleared his throat. “Thanks for that.”</p><p><br/><br/>The things ears pricked, and when it turned to the floating mer, it pointed at it.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.” Clark said with an emphatic nod. “Thank you for killing that mer. It was bad.”</p><p><br/><br/>It pointed once more and this time went back to the bite mark it had made earlier on its neck, gnawing at it and peeling the flesh from it off in large chunks.</p><p><br/><br/>“Uh.” Clark looked away. “Yeah, sure, just eat the-” he swallowed down the vomit that was threatening to come out. “We better get going.” He muttered as he not too subtly shook Marcos off his leg.</p><p> </p><p>The rest of their trip to Redding was thankfully uneventful. Sure enough as they grew closer to land, the amount of mers in the water lessened considerably until there was not a single one, and Clark was able to get his and Marcos’ boats to the dock without much fuss.</p><p> </p><p><br/>Of course there was the issue of actually fixing the boat once there. Marcos was insistent on handling it on his own, especially after the mechanics at the dock told him how much it would cost if they were to take a look. Between the tool boxes both Clark and Marcos were carrying on board, he was able to patch the engine up, hopefully enough to get it back to Cottonwood.</p><p> </p><p>Clark in the meantime went about acquiring the supplies. He brought his own first, carrying the small boxes to his boat and setting them inside. He then went to Simmons, and didn’t even say anything before the man inside was ushering him into the back room. “Lucy called already, says you’re here for hers, Carl’s and Morgan’s supplies, that right?”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s right.” Clark said, and with that, he and Simmons began to move the crates onto his boat.</p><p> </p><p>The last two crates that couldn’t fit on his were placed on Marcos’, thankfully it was just two crates as Clark doubted it would have been able to handle even a fifth of the load Clark’s was carrying. To be fair, Clark didn’t know if his boat would be able to handle it either, but only time would give him the answer to that question. </p><p> </p><p>Once the engine and supplies had been taken care of, Marcos insisted on looking around Redding for a little while longer. As neither man had eaten since the morning they visited a local sandwich shop and picked up some lunch. </p><p> </p><p>They didn't eat inside as Marcos told Clark about a small park that was nearby. Clark was almost shocked when he heard the word. Parks were a waste of space on most islands, with most councils putting the space to better use whether that be for farming or buildings.</p><p> </p><p>Then Clark saw that Marcos really did mean small when he said it. Clark wouldn't even call it a ‘park’ as it felt more like a communal garden. It was wedged between a few buildings and it consisted of little more than a square of grass and a few benches. Marcos went over to one of the benches and sat on it, and Clark did the same, sliding in beside him.</p><p> </p><p>Despite how small it was, there was something about sitting outside with grass under his feet that gave Clark a small burst of nostalgia. He was reminded of when he used to work, how he'd sit at the local park on his lunch break and watch the world go by. He allowed himself to indulge in that feeling, before squashing it down and eating his food.</p><p> </p><p>Marcos was quiet for the most part, and Clark wasn’t one to start conversations at the best of times, so they sat in silence. Eventually however, Clark could see Marcos eyeing him in his peripheral, and when his mouth opened, Clark thought he’d be prepared for whatever came out of it.</p><p><br/><br/>“You don't need to worry about me telling anyone, by the way.”</p><p><br/><br/>Clark made a face as he turned to him. “You already said that.” He frowned as he caught his own tone of voice. He let out a small breath. “Which... I appreciate it.”</p><p> </p><p>Marcos tilted his head. “Oh no, not about the whole ‘S’ man thing. I meant about your mer.”</p><p><br/><br/>That caught Clark, and he raised a brow. "My what?"</p><p> </p><p>"You're a merner, right?” Marcos said as he took another bite from his sandwich, looking at the floor with rapt interest.  “So, I just wanted you to know, i’m not going to tell anyone about that.”</p><p> </p><p>Clark frowned at the word, his own food momentarily forgotten. “<em>Merner </em>?” </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.” Marcos said easily, giving a half shrug. He looked up then, his stare sharp. “Mermaid lovers. It’s what we call you.” </p><p> </p><p>Clark sputtered. “<em>What. </em> ”<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>“That dark one, that was yours, right?” He didn't seem disgusted, if anything he appeared blase about the whole conversation, taking another bite and chewing it as he kept speaking. “Mr. Albernathy has one, too. Keeps her in his shed. Thinks we don't know but he isn’t exactly subtle.”</p><p> </p><p>Clark couldn’t think of words. They had all left him. </p><p> </p><p>Eventually some returned.</p><p> </p><p>“I want to make it clear. That thing you saw, is simply a nuisance that is bothering me for its own amusement.” He ground his teeth, willing every fibre of his being into the words he was about to say, hoping that some- if not all- of hatred he felt would come across. “I cannot stand those things, much less ever <em> love </em> one. Hell, if it up and died, I would not care.” <em><strike> Liar.</strike> </em> </p><p> </p><p>Marcos gave another squirrely shrug. “Sure man, sure…”</p><p> </p><p>“I mean it.” Clark muttered, though he wasn’t sure who he was saying it to.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, you do you, man.” He got up and threw his wrapper in the bin. “Must get lonely on your own little island, so like, I get it." He gave a somewhat sympathetic look to Clark before he went to sit back down. "Just maybe don't broadcast to the rest of the town, cause not gonna lie, my dad's '<em>this </em> ' close killing Mr. Albernathy's.”</p><p><br/><br/>“For the last time.” Clark erupted. Thankfully, the boy had the sense to be afraid, leaning away from Clark’s hulking frame with a look of mild panic. “I. Don't. Love. Mermaids.” He ground out, his voice low and sharp. "I would happily watch every mermaid die from here back to Cottonwood, do you understand?"</p><p> </p><p>“Yup.” Marcos said, eyes wide. “I got it.”  </p><p> </p><p>Clark turned away, leaving Marcos reeling. He stood up and went over to the trash can, throwing his half eaten sandwich away. His appetite suddenly gone. He’d hoped the boy would drop it by the time he returned to the bench, but sure enough. "You wouldn't hurt Mr. Albernathy’s mer, would you?"</p><p> </p><p>Clark made a face as he let out a long breath. "I don't even know him."</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah." Marcos said, looking away. "But you said you’d-"</p><p> </p><p>"It was a figure of speech." Clark muttered, wiping his face. "Anyway, why would you care?" </p><p> </p><p>Marcos looked at his feet. "I told you. I <em> get </em> it." He held his hand up when he saw Clark’s expression turn sour. "Don't get me wrong, i’m fucking terrified of the mers, but if a nice, pretty one wants to shack up with a human, who am I to judge? Especially in Mr. Abernathy's case. His wife died not too long ago and he was in a bad way, but then he started getting better, Hell, he was happier than he had been in a long time."</p><p> </p><p>"Sure enough, when me and my father went to go visit him, I got a peek into his shed. He’d made a little pool for her and he sleeps in a cot next to it. My dad wanted to kill her then and there but I managed to calm him down. Told him that as long as he was happy, what's the issue?" Marcos sighed. "I don't think my dad agrees but I don't blame him. Mers have fucked us over time and time again, so the fact that one is living on the island, much less with a friend of his, must be hard for him to deal with."</p><p> </p><p>"So you worry about her?" Clark asked. </p><p> </p><p>Marcos shook his head. "Not her. <em> Him. </em> If she were to die I know Mr. Albernathy wouldn't want to live for much longer. I think that's what my father doesn't get. He thinks she's gonna kill him but doesn't get that killing her would give him the same fate."</p><p> </p><p>Clark sat forward. Curiosity wiping away his earlier annoyance. "You think she would kill him?"</p><p> </p><p>He shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not. If she's been with him this long why would she do anything now?"</p><p> </p><p><br/>“Right.” Clark said slowly. He didn’t know what he was feeling, but eventually he managed to get a hold of himself long enough to end whatever caused him to indulge in the conversation in the first place. He stood up. “We should get going.”</p><p><br/><br/>Marcos however, remained sat. “I guess that's one thing you got over Mr. Abernathy, even if your mer wanted you dead, it’s not like it would be able to do much.”</p><p> </p><p>“I told you it's not my-” but Clark only sighed. “Look, let's just head on back, we may have eaten but the others haven't.”</p><p><br/><br/>“Right.” Marcos said, getting up from the bench.</p><p> </p><p>Back at the boats, Clark half expected to see them both sunk down in the water under the weight of all the crates, but that wasn’t the case.</p><p> </p><p>It was as he stood on the docks and looked at the boats, that Clark got an idea. Actually, it was more of a hunch, but he figured there was no harm in following it. He told Marcos to wait as he approached the shipping office nearby.</p><p> </p><p><br/>“Hey there.” He called out as he opened the door. The woman at the desk looked to him, and when she did, Clark continued. “I don't know if you'll be able to help, but I figured any shipment from Sacramento comes via Redding, am I right in assuming that?”</p><p><br/><br/>“You are indeed.” The lady said with a nod. “But I will say if you're having a problem with your shipment, I'd contact Sacramento's offices directly as we just follow the orders given to us from them.”</p><p><br/><br/>“When you say orders.” Clark said, leaning against the desk. “What exactly do you mean-” he glanced at the woman's name badge, “Heather?”</p><p> </p><p>Clark liked to think he still had some of the Kent charm and that was indeed proven if the way the woman started to play with her hair was anything to go by. “Oh, well, the shipments from Sacramento are rather large and our port is the only one nearby that can process them. So the ships come here and the crates get put onto smaller boats and sent to the nearby islands, like Manton and Cottonwood, and the-”</p><p><br/><br/>“Speaking of Cottonwood.” Clark interjected, as he set his hands on the counter. “They didn't get their shipment from Sacramento this last time.”</p><p><br/><br/>Heather frowned. “Well, it left here no problem, and the boat didn't sink going there, so it is definitely on that island.”</p><p><br/><br/>Clark’s mouth fell open. “Do you have proof of that?”</p><p><br/><br/>“I do, but-” she looked off behind her, before turning back to Clark. “I'm not meant to show it to just anyone who walks into this office.”</p><p><br/><br/>“I can appreciate that, Heather...” Clark said softly. “But I just want to get to the bottom of this and figure out where this shipment is and I'd be thankful if you could help me do that.”</p><p> </p><p>Heather frowned, but Clark must have been able to pull off puppy eyes better than he realised as eventually she relented. “Okay, I'll show you the invoice. It will have all the info on there.” She typed at her keyboard and when she was done she turned the screen towards Clark. “See? It was signed for and everything.”</p><p><br/><br/>Clark looked at the screen, his eyes darting between the lines on the page. He saw the date that it was ‘meant’ to come in was indeed the date it did, he saw the time of delivery was requested at one am, and most importantly he saw the name of the man who signed for it. “Porter Connoly.” Clark muttered.</p><p><br/><br/>“Is that all you need, hon?” Heather asked, turning her computer back around.</p><p><br/><br/>“Yeah.” Clark said with a firm nod. “I think it is.” When he saw Heather's gaze still on him, he leant back down towards her, smiling. “Thank you Heather, you're a star.”</p><p><br/><br/>She grinned brightly as she batted her hand. “Oh, it was no trouble.”</p><p><br/><br/>He left soon after, and upon finding Marcos sitting on the dock he approached him. “Alright, lets go.”</p><p><br/><br/>“What were you doing in there?” He asked, standing up.</p><p><br/><br/>“I was just asking about the Sacramento shipment as it gets processed here.”</p><p><br/><br/>“Oh.” Marcos said, tilting his head. “I dunno what they told you, but Porter’s been doing that non stop since it went missing.”</p><p><br/><br/>“I bet he has.” Clark muttered as he hopped onto the boat.   </p><p> </p><p>When Marcos went onto his own boat, he started the engine and thankfully it came to life and unlike the previous stint across the water, this one was not marred by mers.</p><p> </p><p>Clark also wasn’t expecting much upon their arrival, but when they came into the dock there was a short man standing there, with a face so slick with sweat it looked like it had been dunked in the nearby water. He wiped his hand on his jacket before extending it to Clark as he came off his boat. “You must be Clark.”</p><p><br/><br/>“And you must be.” Clark’s eyes stayed on the glistening forehead. “Porter.”</p><p><br/><br/>“Yes.” He said with a crisp nod. He moved past Clark and peered onto his boat, his hands clapping together when he saw the stacks of crates. “Lucy told me you were going to Redding, I’m glad to see your trip was a success.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yup.” Clark said, crossing his arms. “Managed to pick up the traders orders.” Marcos jumped down from his own boat and approached.</p><p><br/><br/>“Hey Porter, are you here to help us move the stock?”</p><p><br/><br/>“I am indeed.” He said with a smile. “Though I don't know how much use I’ll be compared to you boys.”</p><p><br/><br/>“Don't worry, me and Clark can do most of it.” Marcos said, hopping on Clark’s boat and picking up a crate. “I'll take this over to Morgan’s and come back for another.”</p><p> </p><p>When he was gone, Clark made no attempt to grab one for himself, making a point to keep his attention on Porter. The other man also didn't move, standing still and clearing his throat. “I wanted to thank you personally for doing this, with the others not going up to Redding, it was getting a bit hairy here.”</p><p><br/><br/>“Right, I can imagine without the Sacramento shipment people were getting pretty desperate.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah.” Porter let out, becoming so still that Clark worried a breeze might tip him. “Yes, they were but now, we have supplies once more. So there is no need to keep worrying about the other shipment.”<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>“I mean, you should still try and track it down, it was odd that it just seemed to…” Clark pressed his lips together. “Disappear.”</p><p> </p><p><br/>Porter cleared his throat. “And that is indeed what I will be doing once we’ve handled this, now, if we could just start to…” he rolled up his sleeves and approached the boat, but Clark’s leg darted out to stop him.</p><p> </p><p><br/>At Porter's wide eyes, Clark’s own narrowed. “But hey, if you're doing your best to track it down, you shouldn't have anything to worry about. It's not like you have anything to do with this, afterall. Unless, of course...” Clark said, leaning back. “You do.” </p><p> </p><p>“What?” Porter let out, stumbling back. “How dare you, I-”</p><p><br/><br/>Clarks lip quirked up. “I found something interesting whilst I was at Redding. I went to their shipping office and had a nice little chat with them. I know all about you rescheduling the shipment to arrive at midnight, I know you signed for it, so I know you must still have it. Now I don't know who or if anyone else was in on it with you, and if they got a cut, but I do know that if I wanted to ruin you all I'd have to do is go back there and get a copy of that document and show it to everyone on this island.”</p><p> </p><p>Porter was white as a sheet, and eventually it looked like he was going to faint, Clark let out a short chuckle that turned into a sigh. “But i'm not going to do that. I'm not going to tell anyone about Sacramento. You're more useful this way, never know when I might need a favor.” At Porter’s sigh of relief, Clark stepped forward, his hand gripping his shirt collar and tugging it tight. “But if you <em> ever </em> do something like this ever again; I will come to your house, pluck you from your bed, and dump you in the middle of the ocean and watch as the mers eat you alive.” </p><p> </p><p>Porter didn't say anything, but eventually his head moved in what Clark assumed was a nodding motion. Marcos was soon running back down to the dock. Clark let go of Porter and stepped back. When Marcos reached them, he stopped and eyed them both. “So am I moving all of these crates myself or what?”</p><p><br/><br/>“Don't worry, Marcos.” Clark said, stepping onto his own boat and lifting three of the crates up. “Me and Porter are right behind you, aren't we Porter?”</p><p><br/><br/>Porter nodded again, this time more firmly. “You bet I am.” He said, his voice quaking. </p><p> </p><p><br/>With Clark, and Porter to a lesser extent, now helping; it didn't take long for all the crates to make their way to their respective traders. He personally brought over Lucy’s, and eyed the line of people already waiting outside, waiting to be served as he brought the crates inside. </p><p> </p><p>He saw his tuna were already out, surrounded by crushed ice and a little sign dictating their price. Lucy didn't have time to stop and chat as she was busy unpacking crates and selling their contents at the same time. Even though no words were shared, the look she sent Clark spoke volumes and after he dropped off the last one, Lucy mouthed a quiet thank you before turning towards the next customer.</p><p> </p><p>Back at the marina, Marcos was still there and Clark came up to him. “Anymore crates?” Clark asked, even though he knew there weren’t.</p><p> </p><p><br/>Marcos shook his head. “No, I just don't really wanna go home right now. I know my dads gonna bite my head off about going to Redding without telling him.”</p><p><br/><br/>“No matter what he says, you did good today, alright?” Clark crossed his arms. “You helped everyone on this island, and without you they'd still be going hungry.” </p><p> </p><p>“I mean it was all you.” Marcos said, chancing a small smile. “But I appreciate the sentiment.”</p><p><br/><br/>“If it was all me, then...” Clark said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the notes Lucy had given him earlier. “Why did Lucy tell me to give me your share?”</p><p><br/><br/>“She-” Marcos’ eyes went to the money. “She did?”</p><p><br/><br/>“Yeah.” Clark said, dividing up the pile and holding half towards Marcos. “She said 'at least Sal’s boy isn't as big of an asshole as his dad'.” </p><p> </p><p>Marcos smiled at that. “That does sound like Lucy…” he gingerly reached out for the money and looked over it in his hands with awe. “It's so much.”</p><p> </p><p><br/>Clark shrugged. “It's what she'd pay the others to get her stock.”</p><p><br/><br/>“Right.” Marcos said distractedly, his eyes still on the money. “I-” he looked up. “Thanks.”</p><p> </p><p>“No problem, now.” Clark shoved the money back into his pocket. “I better be heading home.”</p><p><br/><br/>“Right!” Marcos said, as he too put the money into his pocket. “I'll see you next time you're here. Be safe, Clark.”</p><p> </p><p><br/>“Thanks. See you soon, Marcos.” Clark said as he went onto his boat.</p><p> </p><p>As he sailed home, he looked back towards the island. He could see Marcos still stood on the marina, the money back in his hands as he poured over it. Porter was sat inside the shipping office, his head in his hands as a quiet string of words left his mouth in a language Clark didn't know. When he focused even more, he could hear Lucy's voice ring out as she worked. He turned back towards the front and fought back a smile as he heard her mention to all who entered that today's special was tuna.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! I know y'all wanted Blue so I hope his little cameo was enough to keep you all going. </p><p>I also just wanted to say I love the idea of Marcos seeing Blue and being like 'ah yes, this is clearly the mer this grizzled loner would attract. No doubt.' XD </p><p>Anywho! Be sure to let me know if you liked this chapter, your kind words are what keep me going and I love to hear from y'all! Until next time! (also thank you to all who wished me luck with my new job, I really appreciated it, you guys are the best istg &lt;3 &lt;3 &lt;3)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>It's HEEERE.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>April 15th 2016</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>So it turns out I forgot to buy toilet paper at Redding.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Thank God I had some old rags lying around, because if I had to go all the way to Cottonwood without wiping I think I would have ascended to a level of filth that even I would have taken issue with. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Lucy was doing good. Apparently the skipjack was a hit, but luckily the folk down at Cottonwood are starting to go out with their boats again so I’m not going to have to become a full time fisherman slash courier. Also means I finally got to meet ‘the boys,’ as Lucy called them. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Turns out; Colin is an ass. Antonio, is an ass, and guess what-- Steve? Also an ass. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>At first I figured they were all jaded due to the mers, but now I reckon they were all just born like this. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I really can’t say much, as according to most; I too, am also an ass.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>---</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>April 19th 2016</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>So the thing showed up again.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strike><em><span>He</span></em> </strike>
  
  <span class="u">
    <em>
      <span>It</span>
    </em>
  </span>
  <em>
    <span> was swimming in the shallow water near the island, and when I went onto my dock </span>
  </em>
  <strike><em><span>he</span></em> </strike>
  <span class="u">
    <em>
      <span>it</span>
    </em>
  </span>
  <em>
    <span> swam up to me, chirped and ducked back down into the water. I saw it poke its head up a ways away, and it called again. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t know why I followed it. I think It’s cause I had nothing planned for the day. I sort of wish I didn't bother as <strike>he</strike> <span class="u">it</span> ended up just leading me to my usual fishing spot. Just bobbed there in the water watching me, so in the end I just started fishing.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>After a few hours I went back, and that was my day.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>---</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>April 20th 2016</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I can’t believe it. The dream was different last night.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>When I looked out in the water, I could see something in the distance. As I went towards it I woke up. </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span><br/>
</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>---</span>
  </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Clark couldn’t believe it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After seeing the same thing every night, it was somewhat jarring to wake up with the realisation something had been different about his dream.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not by much, mind you. He wasn’t gallivanting in space with flying unicorns or anything, but at least he was seeing something other than the vast emptiness of the ocean.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That was the strange part about it all, Clark realised. That deep down, there was no light and yet he distinctly saw something. It wasn’t illuminated, it was just there.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Being Kryptonian probably had something to do with it. Even in the blackest of night, Clark could still see the world around him clearly. He supposed that down in the ocean was much the same. Or it could just be good ole fashioned dream logic. Yes, any night now he’d dream of a lamp down there with him, a chaise lounge, maybe even a few flying unicorns for good measure.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But he knew that not to be true. He knew what he was seeing was real, in a sense. That what his mind conjured up would be what he’d see should he actually venture down there. His eyes would pick up whatever was before him as though he were viewing a vague idea. Something that was tangible and yet completely invisible. Outlined in light that didn’t exist, and yet something his eyes could pick up with ease.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The dream was still far beyond Clark’s comprehension, however. He was sure some psychiatrist somewhere would tell him what he was seeing and why, but for now it was just him and with little more than ocean water and the vague notion of something in the distance to go off of, he decided to keep his wandering thoughts away from it once more. Whilst he had seen something, he knew it wasn’t what he was expecting, what he knew was down there. That came later. This was--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stopped himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He tapped the end of the pen against the pages of the journal, as though debating whether to write more down. In the end he chose not to, setting it down and closing the book. He didn’t even bother looking to the day before for what to do today. He knew he had to water his crops and flowers and then clean his boat, and beyond that he was free to do as he pleased.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stood up and went outside. The sun was still low, leaving the world around him a faded hue of blue, with only a few speaks of pink and yellow creeping out from the horizon. He stretched and breathed in deep, taking in the air. He felt good, in fact he felt better than he had in awhile. The fact that surprised him should have been a red flag, but like most red flags in Clark’s life he chose to ignore it for the time being.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Perhaps the dream being different did more for his mood than he realised. Or maybe it was because the weather was nice today. Really, Clark’s mood was as fickle and changeable as the wind, so trying to attribute it to anything was usually a fool's errand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was the knowledge of this fickleness that caused Clark to not so much as pause when he suddenly felt a wash of dread. It was fleeting, touching him for barely a moment, and then as quickly as it came, it was gone. As though being swiped away by the breeze itself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>At first he ignored it; choosing to attribute it to one of the many reasons Clark had to feel dread at a moments notice. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But this however, was diffirent. Even as the feeling lessened, it still seemed to linger around him, and no matter how much Clark tried to go back to the earlier feeling of peace, he couldn’t. He felt compelled to do something, his body filled with pent up energy. As he raked through his mind trying to figure out what it was he felt a compulsion to do, he finally came across it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’d been fishing yesterday. He fundamentally knew he didn’t need to go again today, and yet, a part of himself that he could neither define nor name, told him to go, urging him with such devotion that Clark practically ran onto his boat, turning it on with shaky hands, and pressing onwards despite still being dressed in his pajamas. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What he felt was beyond him. The feeling itself was all too familiar, but just what the cause of it was, he couldn’t understand. Was it the dream? Was it something else entirely? He just didn't know.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After fifteen minutes of fitful sailing, he heard something. There was a commotion somewhere off in the distance, not too far from where he usually fished. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clark turned his head towards it, and when he focused in on the sound, he could see it was coming from two boats a ways away. Mers were probably the cause, they often were when they chose to harass fishermen. He thought nothing of it, keeping his heading the same.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then he heard a familiar scream.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Oh,</span>
  <em>
    <span> fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Clark muttered as pulled hard at the wheel, veering it in the direction of the two boats. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He kept his eyes firmly ahead, and after what felt like hours he finally pulled up beside the boats, waving to the occupants frantically as he stepped out onto the deck. He was sweating, more so than he should have been given the cool air.</span>
  <span> “Hey!” He called out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everyone on the boat looked at him. There were three men in total, all of whom looked vaguely familiar, and with a start Clark knew why. They were from Cottonwood. In fact, he'd met them all only a few days prior. He knew their names, and more importantly, he knew what they did with the mers they caught swimming around their boats.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clark's eyes slid from the men to the thing by their feet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s eyes were wild as it writhed around in the net constricting its body. It was marred in cuts, its flesh torn. The screams it made were primal as it tried in vain to bite the ankles of the men around it. When that failed it turned to Clark, its mouth working around sounds that sounded like they could be words. Despite not knowing the words, he knew what was being said, knew it in the way anyone with basic empathy would.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man who held a harpoon over the thing, looked at Clark. He knew his name was Antonio, knew the other two men were Steve and Colin. They said nothing in terms of greeting, simply waving Clark away before turning back to the mer before them. “We got this handled, alright, you can get going.” Antonio said, having to step away slightly when the thing managed to wiggle towards his ankle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“What are you doing to that mer?” Clark asked, his heart hammering faster. He didn't even realise his hand had curled tighter around the metal railing until he felt it give. Why was he panicking? He knew he shouldn’t be, knew in his heart there was nothing to fear, and yet, no matter what he thought, his mind and heart raced leaving his body feeling as though he was running a marathon. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Antonio let out a breath. “God damn fuckin’ </span>
  <em>
    <span>merners.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” He muttered under his breath. He turned back to Clark, his scowl evident. “It was swimming around are boats, alright? We’re gonna deal with it, so get going. This doesn't concern you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“It does.'' Clark said, and without an invitation, jumped the railing and climbed onto the other man's boat with ease. They reached for their waist belts, one even going as far as to unholster his gun fully, but Clark held firm. “I can't let you hurt that mer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Steve frowned. “Or what? You gonna fight us, Kent?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clark squared his shoulders. “If I have to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Jesus Christ.” Antonio said, wiping his face with his free hand. “These things are the reason we nearly starved last week. Are the reason we struggle to survive every day and you want us to just let it back out into the water and act like none of that happened?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Actually, you nearly starved ‘cause you were all too chicken shit to go get supplies.” Clark stated as he crossed his arms. “In fact, i'm actually shocked you’re out here now. I figured this one mer would have had you shitting yourselves.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“You got a lot of nerve.” Colin muttered, lifting his gun up, though his hands shook considerably. “Do you know what it's like to be on a sinking boat when the mers are swimming all around you, just waiting for you to get into that water so they can pull you down? It would make you chicken shit, too.” He narrowed his eyes. “Maybe we should show you what that's like.”</span>
</p><p><span><br/>
</span><span><br/>
</span><span>“I wouldn't advice that.'' Clark said, already worried this was going to end up going even worse that he initially thought it would. “Look, I’m sorry for what I said-” </span><em><span><strike>no you’re not</strike>,</span></em> <span>“-I just want you to let the mer go, after that, you can do whatever you want.”</span></p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Whatever we want, huh?” The first man said, toying with the harpoon in his hands. “What if I want to drive this into this mer's heart and watch it bleed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Then i'd throw you-” he pointed to Antonio, “then you-” he turned and pointed to Steve, “and then you-” then Colin, “into the water.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Big talk considering it's three to one.” Steve said with a condescending grin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“I don’t want to be the one to have to tell you this, but if you try and fight me, it won’t go well for you.” The men didn’t back down, but something in their posture changed, as though they knew Clark meant what he said, and what's more, it was completely true. “Besides, none of us want that, so, let the mer go and i’ll leave. Simple as that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you think, Colin?” Antonio asked, idly playing with the harpoon in his hands. “You think we should let it go?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I suppose we could…” Colin said as he eyed Clark. Then, something flashed in his eyes. “But we couldn’t possibly let it leave without a souvenir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Couldn’t have put it better myself.” The first man said with a nod, and in one swift movement, lodged the end of the harpoon into the things tail, right into the meat of its thigh.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It let out a choked breath, before screaming so loudly that even Clark winced in pain. The three men before him hunched over, covering their ears. Though it proved to be in vain as they began to howl in pain right along with the thing. Eventually the first man managed to tug the harpoon free, and screamed at Clark. “Fucking take it, take the thing and fucking-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He didn't manage to finish before he was curled on the floor with his hands on his ears. Clark went for the thing, scooping  it up in his arms and rushing towards the railings. He knew it wasn’t strictly possible for a human to vault the railings and hop back to his boat whilst carrying a writhing mer, but with the only other people here being incapacitated on the floor, Clark took the chance. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once he was back on his boat, he all but flung the mer onto the floor before rushing off to start the engine, speeding off before the men on the boat started to get back up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His heart was hammering, and his ears still rang with the echo of the screams, but the thing had at least grown quiet. It was still whimpering and trying to reach for its tail, but with the netting around its body it couldn't do much other than writhe and cry. Clark wanted to help it, but with the other boats still nearby and his island being close he figured it could hold on until they were safe. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It has had worse</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Clark told itself, thinking of the first time it washed up on his beach. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It will be fine,</span>
  </em>
  <span> his mind continued.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It ended up repeating those words the whole ride back to the island. It was the longest fifteen minutes of his life, but it was now over. They were safe. The thing was safe. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clark turned and saw it limp on the floor, having given up on trying to escape its bindings. Clark ran past it into the kitchenette. He roughly opened a drawer and found a small knife within. He grabbed it and went back to the thing. “Alright, don't wriggle.” He murmured, crouching down beside the thing and setting his hand on his flank. “I'm gonna get you out of this shit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>The thing cried out again, but it wasn’t sharp, it was pitiful and Clark’s frown only grew. “Shh, it's okay, I got you, hold still.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He slid the knife into the netting and with little trouble, clumps of it started to come away. It was course in texture, and where the thing had been writhing left its flesh further marred by divots of rubbed raw flesh. Slowly, Clark managed to cut it all off, and once that was done he was left with the sight of the mer before him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>It looked awful, everything his mind had done to convince him it'd had worse had gone out the window. However, it was still conscious, and despite the deep gash in its tail it slowly sat up, and when its face was level with Clark's, it began to lean towards him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clark was taken aback at the movement, falling completely still as he felt its arms wrap around his torso, its head coming to rest on his shoulder. It was shaking, it was bleeding, and it let out what Clark could only describe as a sob as it held onto him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It's... hugging me.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Clark thought to himself, his mind suddenly growing blank. He knew he should probably move, should try and get the thing inside so he could see to his tail, but instead all he managed to do was to bring his own arms around the thing, holding it as it let out a few more quiet sobs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eventually it grew quiet, and its cries turned into those quiet chirps Clark was used to. He decided there was no point in delaying the inevitable any more, so lifted the thing up easily from where they sat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Unlike the last time Clark had brought it into his shack, it was conscious as he brought it inside, choosing to rest its head on Clark’s shoulder as he walked, it’s tail wrapping around Clark’s torso stability. </span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Once inside he set the thing on the bed, and reached for the tub, then went to fill it. It was as he brought it back inside and placed it down that he realised </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span> he didn’t do that last time. The spot where the thing laid now had a large patch of blood and saltwater across its surface. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He lifted the thing from the bed into the tub, and tried to hold back the grimace as he eyed his ruined sheets. At least he had a spare set. The only problem was that he’d now need to go to Cottonwood to clean these ones, and he very much doubted he’d be welcomed back with open arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe they won’t say anything. Maybe everything will be okay.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strike>
    <em>
      <span>Please, you humiliated them. They’re going to make sure the whole island knows you’re no longer welcome.</span>
    </em>
  </strike>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span><br/>
</span>
  </em>
  <span>Clark felt his heart sink, but ignored it in favour of the more pressing issue of the still bleeding mer. He went for the first aid kit, and even though the wound was in a far more tender area than last time, Clark was sure he could still handle it. For one, there didn’t appear to be any organs in the things tail, and whilst he knew he could sew some stitches, organs on the other hand required far more knowledge and tact than he knew he had. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clark didn't even know who he’d call if Antonio had aimed higher; if he’d gotten his stomach instead. He supposed the marine biologist was an option, but then again, that would require human contact and after today Clark was eager to keep that to a minimum from now on.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once he was finished sewing a jagged row of stitches along the wound, Clark turned his attention to the other cuts and scrapes. It was as he went for the bandages that the thing reached for his wrist, holding it there as it shook its head from side to side. Clark frowned, “you don’t want me to wrap them?” He supposed he could see why, if it went in the water they would get wet, but for now at least they’d help keep the bleeding at bay.</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>The things ears twitched, and after a moment, its eyes darted around the room.  When they came across something on the desk, it pointed toward it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clark turned to the desk, and lifted up his journal. “This?” the thing shook his head. Clark moved onto the next time, lifting his pen. “This?” Another shake. Clark then went for his pencil holder and this time the thing chirped. Clark still had no idea what it was trying to say but he brought the pencil holder closer to it. “Alright, what now?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The thing reached for the green ruler inside of it, and held it in front of Clark. Clark looked at it, and his frown only grew. “Okay…” At the thing’s hopeful face, he sighed. “Yeah, I don’t get it.”</span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It pointed at the ruler, before waving it from side to side. It then plunged it into the water, and waved it again, before plucking it back out and holding it in his hands. It then pointed to the bandages in Clark's hand and gestured between the two of them.</span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You want me to use the ruler like a bandage?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The ears twitched, and when Clark didn’t move it let out a huff. It put the ruler into the water once more, and waved it around. This time when it was plucked from the water, the thing brought it to its lips and pretended to bite it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Are you…” but Clark's eyes blew wide. “Wait.” He said, and without another word marched his way onto the shore. He waded through the shallow water towards the jetty. He rooted around underneath it until he found what he was looking for. He pulled it up and went back to the shack and from the doorway held aloft the blade of seaweed. “This?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The thing chirped, and threw the ruler aside. It was nodding frantically and Clark tried to not to smile, with mixed results. He went back to his seat, and using his initiative began to wrap the wound on the things arm with the seaweed, tucking the end in when he was done.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It looked at the seaweed, and after touching it nodded at Clark some more. It then pointed to the wound on his other arm, and Clark got the hint. He got up, and this time grabbed his cooler. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He filled it up with as many long strands of seaweed that he could find, but even when those ran out he grabbed a few handfuls of the small plants as well. He went back inside, and after tending to the worse of the wounds, he threw the small bunches of seaweed into the water and the thing let out a few more enthusiastic chips.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There were still some wounds that Clark couldn’t wrap in seaweed. Most of them seemed to be superficial however, and even in the short amount of time it had been sitting in the tub, they already looked to be getting better. There was a small cut still on the things nose, and Clark didn't know what possessed him but he found himself reaching into the first aid kit and pulling out a small band aid. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The thing chirped when he approached him with it, but didn't object as Clark pressed it on the wound. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It did however go cross eyed as it tried to look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Clark tried not to laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He failed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“What? You never seen a band aid before?” Clark asked, his lips quirking up as he reached into the kit and got another one out, this time putting it on it's arm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The thing reached for that one, using one of its long nails to peel at the edge of it and whining when it tugged on the skin. “Yeah, they hurt more when you pull at ‘em slow. You gotta-” Clark tugged it off sharply and laughed when the thing jumped, rubbing its hand across the tender skin. It growled. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I know. I’m an asshole.” Clark said softly. At the things petulant expression he let out another small laugh. “I’m sorry. Tell you what, I’ll let you get even.” He said, and went back into the kit. He pulled out another band aid and this time put it on his own forearm. He brought it in front of the thing and after rolling his wrist left and right, the thing let out a chirp and brought its nails to the edge of it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span></span><br/>
<span><br/>
</span>
  <span>With its talon like nails, Clark half expected it to rip the bandage apart. Hell, if he’d have been human, he would have expected half of his arm to go along with it, but no, instead the thing worked at the edge of it, and when it peeled up a little it managed to get a hold and ripped it off. It looked to Clark, and at its expectant gaze, Clark feigned a wince. “Ow.” He let out, as he rubbed at the skin of his arm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was as he watched the thing recline in the water, a small, but definite smile on its face, that Clark wondered what he was doing. It was one thing to have helped the thing when it washed up on the beach, but this was going too far, and he knew it. His stomach churned with uncertainty.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Just stop here. </span>
  </em>
  <span>His mind said, as he got up and went to his desk. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Here is okay. Here isn’t too far.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strike>
    <em>
      <span>But you won’t stop here, will you? Diana is right, you need help. Look at what being out here all alone has done to you. You’re turning to these things for comfort.</span>
    </em>
  </strike>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No, I-</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But he couldn’t argue with the voice. It was right, and he knew it. If he really didn’t care about it, he’d have left the moment he saw it was on that boat. He wouldn’t have cared if it died then and there, and yet, the thought of that happening ate away inside of him and had him growing faint.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He opened his journal, and underneath the words already written, he penned;</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I think I fucked up.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He turned back to the thing, and when he caught those bright eyes on him he winced as he felt a flush of warmth run through his body. His hand moved of its own accord across the paper;</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I really fucked up. </span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope you all enjoyed! This chapter was a lot of fun to write. Blue was a cutie, Clark was a cutie. The boys were assholes, but we don't talk about the boys. </p><p>Anyway, as always let me know your thoughts! I love all your comments and they do everything to spurr me on :'D</p><p>Until next time!! :D :D :D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>April 21st 2016</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> The thing looks a lot better. Like, a lot a lot. I don’t know what seaweed has in it, but the thing has healed up to where it doesn’t even look like yesterday happened. I mean, it definitely did, but if I was just going by how it looked I could kid myself. I suppose the one thing I can hope for out of this experience is that it should now be a little more cautious around boats, but we will have to wait and see if that lesson gets through. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> The wound on its thigh is still tender, but I managed to find a few more strands of seaweed at the other end of the island and wrapped it up so we will see if it helps. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> --- </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> April 23nd 2016 </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> What do you know, it did. </em>
</p><p> </p><p><em> Seaweed is magical, who would have thought. It’s thighs look great now. It’s moving around a lot more than </em> <em><strike> he</strike> </em> <em> it did last time which I won’t lie has me a little surprised. Even with how well its healing, I figured it would be a few more days until it healed up enough to move around on its own.  </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em> It just makes me wonder what the Hell happened to it last time. It was cut, bruised, beat, Hell, it even had a fricken harpoon lodged into its thigh and it’s moving around the shallows like it was nothing.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Last time it must have been hit by the mer equivalent of a truck. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> --- </em>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <em> April 25th 2016 </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Okay, even though it's all better, it’s still hanging around. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I don’t want to kick it off the island again, but I don’t know what else to do. I don’t want it to get the wrong idea about this situation. Even after everything, it's still a mer, I can’t let myself get sucked in. That’s what it wants. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> --- </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> April 26th 2016 </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> So, I think today is gonna be the day I try to ‘persuade’ it to leave. </em>
</p><p><em> <br/></em> <em> It looks fine, moves fine, so it’s not like it’s going to die out in open water. </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I’m thinking I'll just put it in the water and take the tub away again, I’m hoping this time it will take the hint and I won’t have to kick sand at-- </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> --- </em>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>He didn’t get a chance to finish that sentence.</p><p><br/><br/>“Oh, <em> fuck. </em> '' Clark let out when he heard it; the sound he had grown to dread. He slammed the book closed and turned his now panicked stare to the thing lounging in the tub, none the wiser to what was about to occur. “<em>No no no no </em> .”</p><p><br/><br/>Clark raced out the door, and slammed it closed behind him. He knew he woke the thing when he heard it chirp, but prayed to God it would stay quiet, but he didn’t have much hope. He assumed like all the previous times he had prayed to God, it would fall on deaf ears.</p><p><br/><br/>Diana waved at him from where she had landed on the dock. Something about her feet walking along the planks triggered a Pavlovian response within himself, and he wanted to run. He knew that he couldn’t, much less now that she had seen him, but especially considering what was in his shack. </p><p> </p><p>She made her way over towards him, and whether it was because Clark had a better handle on his expression than he thought he did or because Diana didn’t seem to notice the abnormal amount of sweat on his face, she simply smiled. “Clark, it's good to see you.”</p><p><br/><br/>“Likewise.” He said with his lips pressed together in a paltry attempt at a smile. Despite how terrible it must have looked, Diana beamed all the same, her smile growing if that were possible.</p><p> </p><p><br/>“How have you been?” She asked, bringing her hand to his shirt to smooth down his collar. As she lowered her hand, she wiped it on her pant leg and Clark couldn’t blame her this time. He hadn’t done any washing in a while now. He still hadn’t ventured to Cottonwood since the 'incident'. Given how much sweat and body odour was now ingrained into the fabric; he was certain they’d stiffen like cardboard if he stopped wearing them so his solution was to just not change his clothes.</p><p> </p><p>It took him a moment to process what was being asked, given how hard he was trying to split his attention between Diana and the thing inside. It still hadn’t moved, but it gave another chirp from within, one which had Clark opening his mouth to try and cover. “Yeah, I’ve been good.” He said far too loudly.</p><p> </p><p><br/>Diana’s face didn’t change, which Clark was somewhat happy about. He didn't know if he could handle her overly maternal shtick right now. “That’s good.” She said as she let out a breath. “I was worried after last time you’d still be mad at me.”</p><p><br/><br/><em> Last time? </em> Clark had to rack his brain, but when he did he was confronted with the shitshow that was Diana’s last visit. He had managed to push most of it out of his mind, and it was remarkable how quickly he felt his ire grow at being reminded of it. “Oh yeah, <em> that </em> .”</p><p><br/><br/>Diana sent him a small smile. “I actually came to apologize. I know I can be hard on you sometimes, but its just because I worry.” She looked out towards the shore. “I will say the more I come here the more I understand your decision. This place... It somewhat reminds me of Themyscira. It’s peaceful.”</p><p><br/><br/>Clark let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “Yeah. It is.” He said, letting his shoulders loosen as he leant back against the door. “I told you. It’s nice out here.”</p><p><br/><br/>“And that's why I came here today. Not just to apologize, but to try and understand your way of life. I know you resent me worrying, so I thought a way to settle it, at least for the time being, would be for me to see for myself what it is you do here; how you live. After that I promise to only keep my visits to your birthday.” She said, sending him a playful smile. At his silence, she went on. “Well, your birthday as well as any other dates I feel are important.”</p><p> </p><p>Clark’s silence wasn’t brought on by an attempt at banter as Diana seemed to assume. It was for a reason that very much had to do with what was currently in his home. Clark’s stomach dropped. “That’s not really necessary.”</p><p><br/><br/>“It really is.” Diana said firmly, her arms crossing. “I’m not backing down on this Clark, either you agree to this now or I come here every week to keep tabs on you.”</p><p> </p><p><em> So i'm fucked if I do, fucked if I don't? </em> Clark’s mind supplied as his body shook with nerves. “Uh, it’s just, i’m not, you know-- this day is bad for me, ‘cause Mercury is in-”</p><p><br/><br/>“Clark, stop it.” Diana chided, shaking her head. “I’ve seen the stale of the hole you live in plenty of times, so just-” she reached past him towards the handle, and Clark’s hand jutted out to grab a hold of it with a vice like intensity.</p><p> </p><p>“Don't.” He let out.</p><p><br/><br/>Diana pulled her hand free, her frown growing. “Why?” Her eyes narrowed at him. “What are you hiding in there?” </p><p> </p><p>Clark’s face grew red. “<em>What? </em> Nothing. Its just--” he tried to think of words, but they were failing him. “I don’t <em> need </em> a reason for you not to invade my privacy. I don’t come to your house and barge in like I own the place.” He managed to get out as he blocked the door further with his body.</p><p><br/><br/>“Clark.” She said slowly, folding her arms. “What have you done?”</p><p> </p><p><br/>He didn’t get to answer. The thing did it for him. A quiet thump came from within his cabin and before long the sound of scraping began. Diana's bewildered stare flew between him and the door. “Clark.” She repeated, but she didn't go on, her brows knitting together in more than just concern.</p><p><br/><br/>Should he keep the door closed? <em> What was the point? </em> He could say he got a dog. <em> Yes, a dog, and he didn’t want Diana to see it because it was horribly deformed </em> . <em><strike> That is the dumbest idea you’ve come up with in a while.</strike> </em> </p><p> </p><p>His mind raced as he tried to come up with any reason at all for what was happening other than the truth, because the truth was… He didn’t know what the truth was.</p><p> </p><p>When no answers came, he let his head hang low. This was it. This was the moment he had prayed to God wouldn’t happen, and of course, did. </p><p> </p><p>He opened the door slowly, allowing the thing to come fully into view. It was on the floor, peering up at them both. It growled at Diana and as it made its way out onto the sand, brushing up past Clark and letting its tail trail along his legs as it passed.</p><p> </p><p>It didn't go into the water like Clark thought it would. Instead choosing to lounge on the damp sand by the shore, watching them both from afar.</p><p>  <br/><br/>Clark chanced a look at Diana and didn't miss the horror emblazoned on her face. “Clark.” This time as she said his name, her tone made it sound as though she were addressing someone entirely new. “Please tell me you haven't…” she leant on the side of the building, covering her face in her hands. “I knew you shouldn't be out here alone, and I didn't-” She let out a choked breath. “Hera, I am an idiot.”</p><p><br/><br/>“It’s not what you think.” Clark said for what felt like the hundredth time. “I’m not, you know...” He grimaced, “ <em> doing </em> anything with it, it just got hurt and I patched it up. Nothing else happened, okay?” Even though it was the truth it sounded like a lie even to himself.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strike>
    <em> That's because you are lying. </em>
  </strike>
</p><p> </p><p>“Don't. Not now.” He murmured</p><p> </p><p>“What?” Diana asked, her mouth agape as she looked at him. “Who are you talking to?” </p><p> </p><p>Clark paused, his eyes growing wide. “No one, I was just-” but he didn't finish, swallowing thickly.</p><p> </p><p>“Clark.” She moved to him, her hands reaching for his shoulders, holding him there firmly. “I say this as your friend. As someone who cares about you. Please listen to me when I say this. You <em> need </em> to see someone.”</p><p><br/><br/>Instead of having their intended effect, Diana's words only stoked something within Clark. He felt it bubble and fester the longer he looked at her sorrowful gaze, until he could feel it rise like acid up his throat. “What good would that do, exactly?” Clark ground out, not even attempting to hide his contempt.</p><p> </p><p>Diana flung her hands out. “I don’t know, but I can't sit by and watch you crumble like this.” </p><p> </p><p>“Then don't.” His eyes narrowed. “Leave.” </p><p> </p><p>“No.” Diana said firmly.</p><p> </p><p>He stepped forward. "<em> Leave </em>."</p><p> </p><p>He could see the tears in her eyes. "Lois wouldn't-"</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Don't </em> say her name." Clark’s breath hitched. "You don't <em> get </em>to say her name. Ever. Understand?" </p><p> </p><p>“Or what? Are you going to punch me, Clark?” The disbelief in her voice was gone by the time she had finished the sentence, leaving only a look on her face that told Clark that she already knew the answer to her own question.</p><p> </p><p>Diana landed halfway across the beach, lodged in a sand dune that she erupted from in a flurry a moment later. As she stared at Clark, there was no shock on her face, no disbelief, she only looked resigned as she patted herself down.</p><p> </p><p>“I know you didn't mean that.” She said, and despite how much Clark wished for the wind and sea to come and block out her voice, they didn't. He could still hear her despite wishing with all his might that he couldn’t.</p><p> </p><p>She was back in front of him, looking at him once more with those sad eyes and the anger bubbled up again. <em> “Leave. </em>”</p><p> </p><p>“Not until we’ve talked about this, I know you’re mad at me, I know you think i'm the bad guy here, but-”</p><p><br/><br/>“No.” He cut her off, and Clark ignored the way she braced herself when he lifted his arm. “You are going to listen to me, and I will not repeat myself. Get off my island, never come back, and if you <em> ever </em> say her name again, I will do a lot more than punch you.”</p><p> </p><p>Diana huffed, her hands shaking. “So that's it, then? You’ve forgone humans-- the people who <em> care </em> about you-- for that…  That <em> thing! </em> ” She said, gesturing to the mer on the beach.</p><p><br/><br/>“Damn it Diana, it’s not a-” but Clark stopped, his eyes growing wide. What was he going to say? </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> What was the rest of that sentence? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Clark didn’t continue. He was physically incapable of speech as every attempt to open his mouth was greeted with apparent paralysis. Diana took this moment to come closer, holding her hand out as though she were trying to pacify a wild animal. “I understand that the mers can do things to peoples minds, Clark. This isn’t your fault. It’s clear what has happened here. I know you didn’t want to do this, which is why we need to get you to someone.” She let out a breath. “You need to understand that what you’re feeling isn’t genuine and move past it.”</p><p><br/><br/>Her words made sense. He knew they did. Clark had thought them himself, but now, hearing them from Diana’s mouth only caused him to turn away, his hands curling into tight fists. “You have no idea what i’m feeling.” Clark muttered. “You like to think you have this great insight into my mind Diana, but you don’t. No one does!”</p><p> </p><p>“Then let me understand!” Diana pleaded, edging ever closer. “<em>Talk </em> to me, tell me what brought this on. Why are you helping this thi-” she took a breath. “This mer.”</p><p> </p><p>Clark didn't have an answer for that question and as such, he looked away. “This is ridiculous.” He ended up saying, looking to Diana with enough fire in his stare to cause her to retreat, losing all the ground she’d covered. “You need to understand something Diana, we aren’t friends. We haven't been in a <em> long </em> time.”</p><p> </p><p>Why was he doing this? He knew he was pouring gasoline onto a bonfire, and yet, he kept pouring.</p><p> </p><p>Diana’s posture wilted. “You don't mean that.”</p><p><br/><br/>“I really do.” Clark said, keeping his face blank despite how much he could feel himself crumble. “You wonder why I never visit you? Why I ignore your calls? Why I want to leave the planet every time you visit?” He huffed a breath. “You think it’s ‘cause of Metropolis, but it’s really because I can’t stand you.”</p><p> </p><p>Diana took a deep breath as she stood tall. “I know you’re trying to hurt me on purpose, and it’s not working because I know you’re lying.”</p><p><br/><br/>“That’s the thing Diana.” Clark said, looking at her straight in those watering eyes. “It’s working because you know i’m not.”</p><p> </p><p>Her face twitched, and he knew he broke her. Knew it in a way that only a true friend would. The tears fell and Diana brought up her hand to wipe them away. "Fine. You win." She said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I can’t fight you on this anymore."</p><p> </p><p>"I didn't ask you to." Clark said with an odd sense of finality. As if he knew it would be the last thing he'd say to her. </p><p> </p><p>"No." She said with a bob of her head looking back at him, her stare fierce. "You didn't. And now? You wont be able to." She turned from him walking towards the shore line, she passed the mer but didn't send it another glance. At the dock, she turned towards Clark once more, her hair caught in the sea breeze, obscuring her face. "Goodbye, Clark." </p><p> </p><p>Then she was gone. </p><p> </p><p>For a while he didn’t move. He was frozen in place. Or maybe time itself had stopped. Either or. No matter how much he tried to rationalise what had just happened, what he had done, he couldn’t. He couldn’t understand it; what he had seen, what he had heard.</p><p> </p><p>Regret hit him in the gut not too long after, causing him to fall to the floor and stare into the sand as if it would hold the answers to the questions swirling around his mind. This was insane, he knew it was, and yet he couldn’t seem to stop himself. He was on the train to nowhere and was now the only passenger, with Diana having just stepped off to never return.</p><p> </p><p>No, he wasn’t alone. Not truly. He looked up to the mer and felt his mind swing back and forward between the two truths he thought he knew. One, that mers were evil, and two, that this one wasn’t.</p><p> </p><p><br/>He didn’t know which was right. Didn’t know if either of them were right. All he knew was that he had to be strong. He had to prove Diana wrong. </p><p> </p><p>He slowly stood up and approached the mer, his stare firm as he pointed out to the water. “Get.”</p><p><br/><br/>The mer didn’t move and as Clark repeated himself, even batted its tail with a yawn.</p><p> </p><p>Clark's jaw clenched, and without even meaning to, he kicked the dune by his feet hard enough to send flecks of sand all the way to the water. They also covered the mer, and as the sand settled he saw those wide eyes on him, panicked. “Yes, fucking be scared you piece of shit. Fuck off. Fuck off and leave me alone!” He kicked again, and more sand rained down.</p><p> </p><p>He stopped looking at it. Stopped thinking about anything other than how the sand felt against his foot as he kicked it. </p><p> </p><p>He’d created a ditch by the time he felt his anger abate. When he looked up, the mer was no longer there. The water in front of him rippled with movement as it swam away frantically.</p><p> </p><p><br/>“Good!” He cried out, falling to his knees. “Leave! Leave like everyone else! I don't need you, you, <em> you-- </em>” he choked on the word.</p><p> </p><p>Now time seemed to fly by as before he knew it, it was evening. The sun was gone and the wind grew cold. </p><p> </p><p>Eventually he managed to stand. He hobbled to his shack and when he opened it, he saw the tub before him. His eyes watered. “<em>Fuck</em>.” He whispered.</p><p> </p><p>He looked out to the ocean, hoping to see the mer watching him.</p><p> </p><p>But it wasn’t there.</p><p> </p><p>He was alone.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>:)</p><p> </p><p>Ngl, was so tempted to just leave my end notes as a ':)' but you know me, I love to ramble ;D</p><p>I am sorry for doing this to ya'll, but Clark is a big dumb dumb and that ain't gonna change any time soon. At least Blue is healed up.... For now.</p><p>I debated uploading this chapter on Sunday, but I figured if I uploaded it today, I could then do the next chapter on Christmas! So that's what I'm gonna do! :D Until then, I wish you all well, and I hope you all enjoyed this chapter despite all the angst. Lemme know your thoughts! </p><p>;D xx</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Merry Christmas all!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> April 29th 2016 </em>
</p><p> </p><p><em> I haven’t seen the </em> <strike><em> th </em></strike> <em> mer since Diana’s visit. I think I actually scared it off for good this time. It’s not keeping an eye on me from the water; not stalking me when I fish. </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I don’t know what to think about that. </em>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <em> --- </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> April 30th 2016 </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I can’t sleep. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> --- </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> May 3rd 2016 </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> BIRTHDAY. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Diana didn’t come. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> --- </em>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <em> May 10th 2016 </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strike>
    <em> Everything’s shit. The world is shit. Life is shit. Diana’s a fucking bitch, fuck her and fuck the fucking mer. Fuck them both. They can fucking die. </em>
  </strike>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> --- </em>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <em> May 15th 2016 </em>
</p><p> </p><p><em> There was a tremor last night. </em> <em> <br/></em> <em> <br/></em> <em> Not a big one; just a rumble, but fuck me I couldn’t breath. </em> <em> <br/><br/></em></p><p><em> <br/></em> <em> --- </em></p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <em> May 20th 2016 </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I don’t know where the month went. I mean, I do, but I also don’t. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I can’t remember what I did. I know I did ‘something’ because I’m still alive, but the specifics of how I managed that are lost on me. When I look back at what I wrote, bits and pieces come back to me, but for the most part this last month has been a blur. </em>
</p><p><em> <br/></em> <em> I also realise I need to clean the place or I will become sentient filth. I cleaned up a little bit already, scrubbed a shirt and some underwear to wear for now and I'm going to head to Cottonwood to clean the rest. </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I don’t want to, but I have to. Best case scenario; everything will be fine. Worst case scenario; i’m going to have to start going to Manton. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> --- </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Turns out Clark wasn’t prepared for the worst case scenario.</p><p> </p><p>He should have known something like this was coming. The old saying about the calm before the storm existed for a reason. The trip over had been peaceful. There were a few mers swimming around on route, and as he got closer to Cottonwood he was surprised to see the lack of mers in the surrounding waters. He didn’t know why that was the case until he parked up and stepped out onto the dock.</p><p> </p><p>It was as he walked through the marina that his eyes caught something hanging from the archway that marked the entrance to the docks. At first he didn’t know what he was looking at, but as he got closer he saw it for what it was. He paused, and realised he was no longer able to move.</p><p> </p><p>He also knew he wasn’t breathing. Knew he was holding his breath as though his mind was instead choosing to focus on what he was seeing rather than keep his lunging working.</p><p> </p><p>It was a body. It was a mer’s body. It wasn’t <em> the </em> mer but that didn’t stop Clark’s mind from imagining it was. </p><p> </p><p>He closed his eyes and told himself it was another mer; one with long blonde hair and a tail the colour of seaweed. There was no milky skin, or dark blue scales. <em> It was not the mer. Stop thinking it is. </em></p><p> </p><p><em>But it could be. It too could be hanging from an arch at this very moment. All because you scared it away</em>.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>When he opened his eyes he was greeted with the sight of the hanging mer as it actually appeared.</p><p> </p><p>It was dead. That much was obvious. It’s intestines hung out of a slit in its belly, and even without that gruesome reminder, Clark could smell it from where he stood, staring up at it as it remained unmoving in the ocean breeze.</p><p> </p><p>He heard footsteps come up from behind him, but Clark didn't turn to look at their source. He knew it was Porter, and when he broke his stare away he saw the man in question next to him, looking up to him with that same nervous expression he wore the last time they met. “Clark. I see you’re looking at the--” Porter daultered, looking away. “Thing.” He finished quietly.</p><p> </p><p>“I am.” Clark said, surprised that his voice sounded halfway normal. He looked back at it, suddenly unable to tear his eyes away from it’s delicate face. “Why is it here?”</p><p> </p><p>“She--” but Porter cut himself off with a start. “<em> It </em> ,” he amended, “killed Tom.”</p><p><br/><br/>“Tom?” Clark asked, his brow quirking.</p><p><br/><br/>“Tom Albernathy. He runs-- <em> ran </em> the ranch here.” Porter looked away, rubbing his hand on his neck. “It killed him.” He repeated, like an afterthought.</p><p> </p><p><br/>Clark wondered why he knew that name. Wondered why he was surprised when he heard it. When those answers came to him, his stomach churned to the point he could feel bile rising in his throat. He took a deep breath, urging away the nausea. “I see.”</p><p> </p><p>Porter didn't walk away, remaining next Clark as he tried and failed to regain his composure.  Eventually Porter placed a hand on Clark’s back; an oddly reassuring gesture that shouldn’t have comforted Clark as much as it did. When Clark turned to him, that nervous frown was gone, replaced with a look of steely determination that Clark couldn’t place the source of. His mouth opened as though about to speak, but they were were interrupted by the sound of footsteps. Porter took a quick glace towards them and stepped away from Clark, walking swiftly back to the shipping office without a backwards glance.</p><p><br/><br/>Clark would have followed had it not been for his name being called. “Kent!” He heard, and when he turned to the source he had to fight his grimace.</p><p><br/><br/>“Antonio.” Clark ground out. He hoped he put the right amount of vitriol into the word. Enough to get Antonio to turn right back around.<br/><br/></p><p>He did not, apparently. Antonio all but swaggered up to the hanging body, grinning as he came to a stop underneath it. Clark fought back another wave of bile. Antonio cocked his head as he looked Clark up and down. “I have to admit I didn't think you’d come back here after what happened but I’m happy to see you have.”</p><p> </p><p>“You are?” Clark said, raising a brow.</p><p><br/><br/>“Of course I am!” Antonio said, and despite the earnest smile on his face Clark could feel the hatred behind it. Could see it glimmer like flames in his eyes. “If you hadn't, you wouldn't have seen our new art piece. Hung it up yesterday myself.” He gestured to the hanging body and winked at him. “Works like a charm at keeping mers away.”</p><p> </p><p>“Right.” Clark said flatly. </p><p> </p><p>Clark half expected him to walk away then, but somehow he knew Antonio wasn't one to quit whilst he was ahead. “Speaking of mers,” he said with a wiggle of his brows. “How’s your one doing?”</p><p> </p><p><br/>“It's fine.” Clark said simply, reveling at the look of surprise on Antonio's face. “Oh, did you want me to say it died from the harpoon wound?” He crossed his arms. “‘Cause it didn't.” Of course he had no way of knowing if that was still the case. But that didn't matter. It had stopped spying on Clark, so as far as he was concerned, the mer was out of his life for good. Which he had to remind himself was a good thing.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh well.” Antonio shrugged. “There is always next time.”</p><p> </p><p>Clark's frown grew as he opened his mouth to retort, but Antonio stopped him, holding up his hand. “Don't worry, Kent. I’m not one to get between a freak and his mer unless I have to.” He then let out a breath, a look of faux sadness on his face. “But I don't know about everyone else on the island. Some of them were pretty disgusted by what I told them you did.”</p><p><br/><br/><em> Okay, so this is the worst case scenario times a hundred. </em>His mind supplied as he stared at Antonio’s face, fighting the urge to punch it. He instead shrugged, forcing himself to keep his expression neutral. “If they're as chicken shit as you, I don't really have much to worry about.”</p><p> </p><p>Clark fought back the smile as Antonio’s expression soured. “Good one, Kent.” He gave a pinched smile. “I would say i’ll be seeing you, but after today, who knows if that will be true.”</p><p> </p><p><br/>He didn’t get a chance to respond, not that he wanted to. Antonio marched his way off the dock, leaving Clark to once again look at the hanging body. He sent a cursory look to the shipping office and didn't miss Porter watching him through the window. He debated walking in there, but after a few more moments of uncertainty he chose instead to get this whole trip over with and head to the laundrette.</p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t lost on him that people were staring as he passed. More so than they usually would. He really had to wonder what Antonio and the others had been saying about the 'incident' as he couldn’t understand how stopping a murder could put him on so many peoples shit list.</p><p> </p><p><strike><em> But that's not all that you did, is it? </em></strike>Clark frowned at the voice, trying to block it out. <em><strike> It's not exactly lies they're spreading. You’ve thought about the thing nearly everyday now. Face it, you’ve been sucked in. There is no hope for you.</strike> </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Not. Now.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>When he got to the laundrette, he was able to wash his clothes with only minimal staring. He told himself it was from the smell and after convincing himself of that, it made the hour spent sitting inside  easier to bare. He contemplated going for a walk whilst he waited to try and pass the time, but something about the expression on the owner's face told him if he left the place, he’d be at risk at finding his clothes in the ocean when he returned. </p><p> </p><p>The wait wasn’t too bad in the end. Living on an island with little to do made him a pro at zoning out. It wasn’t long before he heard the washer beep and once everything was clean, he made his way back outside. </p><p> </p><p>He thought about leaving then. After all, he had done what he had set out to do.</p><p> </p><p>But he did need supplies. </p><p> </p><p>Lucy’s was quiet when he stepped inside. The girl at the register sent him a look and on the plus side, it was nothing like the stink eyes he was receiving from everyone else. She hopped off the seat and stepped behind the curtain before Clark had even said a word, and not even a moment later Lucy's head was poking out instead. “Clark!” She said brightly, and Clark didn't even realise he was holding his breath until he heard her say his name; her expression void of any ill will. “Gosh, I thought you’d dropped off the face of the Earth.” She sent him a smile. “How you been?”</p><p> </p><p>“Good.” He said, despite the fact that good and all of its synonyms were it no way indicative of how he felt, somehow Lucy's smile was enough to change all that. “How about you? Have things been okay here?”</p><p><br/><br/>“Well, that depends...” Lucy sighed as she sat on the stool by the register. “I take it you saw Antonio’s ‘work’ when you came in?”</p><p> </p><p>“I did.” Clark said, with a single nod. “It’s quite the statement.”</p><p><br/><br/>“That's one way of putting it.” Lucy said, crossing her arms. “I would have used ‘eyesore’ or ‘monstrosity’ myself.”</p><p> </p><p>“Right.” Clark said, his lips quirking downwards.</p><p> </p><p>Lucy must have caught his expression and went on. “Personally, I don’t care if she ripped Tom’s head off. She didn't deserve to be gutted and hung out like that. At the end of the day, Tom was a grown man and put her in that shed. He should have known something like this might happen… It’s like getting mad at a lion for biting a gazelle.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.'' Clark let out. “I didn't think you were…”</p><p><br/><br/>Lucy only sent him a look. “I don't need to be fucking a mer to feel empathy for them.” </p><p> </p><p>Clark’s eyes widened. “Right, that's what I--”</p><p><br/><br/>“I know.” Lucy said, raising a brow. “Believe me, the boys told me all about you rescuing your mer. They embellished it a whole lot, but if I had to guess it actually went something like; they found him, you told them to let him go, Antonio stabbed him and then they all got mad when you saved it.”</p><p><br/><br/>“That is pretty much the gist of it, yeah.” Clark said, pressing his lips together.</p><p><br/><br/>“Some people don’t see mers as people.” Lucy muttered as she turned her pensive stare upwards. “I do. I know to some that makes me an idiot, but at the end of the day I look at their eyes and I see intelligence, I see humanity.”</p><p> </p><p><br/>“Even after everything they've done?” Clark asked, frowning.</p><p><br/><br/>“After what they’ve done? Clark, look at what <em> we </em> do.'' Lucy said, gesturing towards where they knew the marina lay. “We’ve started wars; wiped out civilizations and other humans for what they believe, and then you get shit heads like Antonio who think that just ‘cause they got two legs, they somehow have the moral high ground over the mers.” She sighed, shaking her head. “They way I see it, they do what they need to do to survive, just like we do.”</p><p> </p><p>“Huh…” Clark said to himself as he pondered those words.</p><p><br/>At his silence, Lucy cleared her throat. “Anyway, I know what I said is a little… <em> divisive </em>. So, if you could not let the rest of the island know what I told you, I'd appreciate it...” Lucy said, looking away. “As you’ve seen for yourself, not everyone thinks like we do.” </p><p> </p><p>“Of course, Lucy.” Clark said, stepping up close to the counter. “I mean, it’s not like I <em> could </em> talk to anyone else... Everyone hates me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Not everyone.” Lucy said, with a sympathetic smile. “I still owe you a discount for life, remember?”</p><p><br/><br/>Clark sent a smile back. “I thought it was for a month tops?”</p><p> </p><p>“What can I say, i'm feeling generous today.” She stood up, clapping her hands together. “Now, what are you getting?”</p><p> </p><p>He ended up spending all the money he’d acquired from Lucy last time. He didn’t intend to stock up as much as he did, but given the temperament of Cottonwood, he figured it would be best to keep his visits infrequent from now on, or at least until people had forgotten what he had done.  </p><p> </p><p><br/>But that might take years for that to happen in the case of Antonio, Steve and Colin, and, as he learned upon walking back to his boat, Sal. </p><p> </p><p>He paused outside the mechanics, and caught sight of Marcos and Sal behind the counter within. He waved when he noticed Marcos’ eyes were on him. He raised his own hand as though to wave back, but as he did, another hand darted out and stopped it from moving. Clark saw Sal's stare on him, his face like thunder as he stepped out from behind the counter and marched out of the doorway. “What the Hell do you think you're doing?”</p><p><br/><br/>“Waving.” Clark said, blandly. “Am I not allowed to wave?”</p><p><br/><br/>“Not to my son you're not, you freak.” Sal spat out, crossing his arms.</p><p><br/><br/>“Right, i'm a freak.'' Clark said, nodding slowly. “And you? You’re an asshole. See? I can do it too.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why don't you just fuck off back to your island? We don't want you here, or are you too much of freak to see that?”</p><p><br/><br/>“Oh no, I got that message very clearly.”</p><p><br/><br/>“Dad, come on.” Marcos said, appearing behind his father in the doorway, his face drawn. “Leave Clark alone, he isn't hurting anyone.”</p><p><br/><br/>“No, he isn’t.” Sal conceded, his lips quirking upwards. “But his mer will. Yes, one day Kent, that mer of yours is going to kill you, just like Tom’s killed him and when that happens, you’ll realise we were right about those things.”</p><p> </p><p>Marcos’ mouth opened as though to argue, but Sal only turned to him and with a few scant words in Spanish, he turned to Clark, his eyes watering. “You should leave, Clark.”</p><p><br/><br/>“Right.” Clark said, feeling the full weight of those words. “I'll see you around…” He continued, but Marcos looked away. “Or not.” He added with a grimace.</p><p> </p><p>Clark left the two and walked the rest of the way towards the docks, keeping his eyes firmly on the ground as he passed the body on the archway. He set his hamper of clean clothes and shopping inside the cabin and went to pull out of the marina.</p><p> </p><p>He cast another look towards the island, and when he caught sight of the mer this time, he took a deep breath and steeled himself.</p><p> </p><p>He knew what he had to do.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>:) </p><p> </p><p>Merry Christmas everyone!! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. I know these is no Blue, but he's fine, don't worry ;) </p><p>Also, as I was finishing up this chapter I was reminded of how angsty this whole fic is. I really am just going hard on the angst. I promise at some point there will be fluff and cuteness but we have to get through all the pain and first. </p><p>The mystery around Cottonwood thickens, tune in next time to see what Clark will do. </p><p>Also thank you for all your kind words! Your comments are what keep me going. I hope today is filled with joy and love for all of you. Until next time xx</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/>
<em> May 20th 2016 </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Cont'd, </em>
</p><p> </p><p><em> So it turns out the worst case scenario was worse than I thought. </em> <em><br/>
</em> <em><br/>
</em> <em> The jokes on those shit heads, though. I’m about to get rid of their prized ‘art’ piece. </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em> --- </em>
</p><p> </p><p>At night, the waters were even quieter.</p><p> </p><p>Clark kept expecting a mer to appear as he headed to Cottonwood, but as he looked out across the surf, he saw nary a fin or a face. </p><p> </p><p>At first he didn’t know why he was looking so intently for one. It took a little while for the reason to come to him. He wanted to see the mer as he searched the waves; if not simply to allow himself to continue believing it really was okay out there. </p><p> </p><p>When he had returned home that morning, he wanted to see it waiting near his island. All throughout the day, he wanted to see it watching him from the water, and now, more than ever, he wanted to see it somewhere in the vast waters of the ocean.</p><p> </p><p>He tried to discern why. The longer he thought, the more a nagging weight in his chest began apparent. Clark could only somewhat identify it; guilt. All the other emotions bundled up there with it were a mystery for now, so in Clark’s mind it must have been that sole identifiable emotion that guided him right now and not one of the many others.</p><p> </p><p>But why guilt? Was it from kicking the mer off his island? It had been a month since it happened. He thought he was over it. So why was he feeling guilty once more?</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<em>You know why. </em>His mind supplied as his boat pressed onwards. Clark steeled himself as it went on. <em>It</em> <em>could be dead somewhere. Maybe it's hanging up from an archway, too. Guts out and everything. All because of you.</em><em><br/>
<br/>
</em></p><p> </p><p>Despite his best efforts to push those thoughts aside they still plagued him by the time he pulled into Cottonwood.</p><p> </p><p>He debated parking up in his usual spot, but at the last minute changed course towards the deserted end of the marina. As he stepped off the boat, all the lights were off and in the low light Clark knew it would be difficult for anyone, much less a human, to make him out. Clark on the other hand, could clearly see the body hanging from the archway before him as though it were day. He was the only one out here and he made his way slowly towards it, before his attention was drawn towards the shipping office.</p><p> </p><p>He’d heard something from within, and when he focused he saw Porter inside, slumped on one of the desks. He looked to be asleep, and the noise Clark must have heard was nothing more than a heavy sigh. Clark debated leaving him alone, and doing what he had come here to do, but a suspicion he held within himself had his feet moving towards the building and after finding the front door open, stepping inside.</p><p> </p><p>Porter was in the back office. The door to it was closed, and Clark eased it open and peered within. The space was modest, with little more than a desk and a few filing cabinets. The light above was a simple bulb on a cord, and when Clark stepped inside, and shut the door behind him, he reached for the switch and flipped on said light.</p><p> </p><p>Porter’s head darted up and Clark didn't miss the panic there before it quickly abated. “Clark? Wha-- What are you doing here?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“I could ask you the same.” Clark said, leaning against the door. “A little late for you to be at the office, don't you think?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Right, I--” Porter cleared his throat. “I must have lost track of time.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Expecting another midnight shipment, are we?” Clark asked, his eyes narrowing.</p><p> </p><p>“What?” Porter blurted. “No, no. Nothing like that.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Then why are you here?” Clark asked, coming forward until he stood just before the desk, looming over it. “You know how this looks, right? Staying here till midnight, all alone, keeping the doors open as though you’re expecting someone. So, I’ll ask again. What are you doing here?” </p><p> </p><p>“I--” Porter's eyes filled with tears as he looked away. “I didn't want to go home...”</p><p> </p><p>Clark wasn’t satisfied. He crossed his arms. “Why?”</p><p> </p><p><br/>
Clark could see the indecision on Porter’s face, could see that he wanted nothing more than to run, but something stopped him; perhaps it was knowing he was well and truly caught or perhaps it was another reason entirely that caused his mouth to fall open and for the words to pour out.</p><p> </p><p>Porter let out a shaky breath. “Yana is there.” He whispered, bringing his hands to his eyes and curling them tightly against his sockets. “She’ll want to know what happened to Elyss and I can’t tell her what they did to her. I just <em>can’t</em>.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark frowned. “Who is Yana?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yana, my partner.” Porter muttered before looking up at him, his eyes red. “My… <em> mer </em>… partner.” </p><p> </p><p>“Your…” but Clark didn't continue, his mouth snapping shut as realisation hit. “Oh.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“You look surprised.” Porter ended up saying.</p><p> </p><p><br/>
“I just didn’t think you were…” Clark looked away. “A... you know…”</p><p> </p><p>Porter gave a single huff of a laugh. “Well, I didn’t think you were one, either.”</p><p> </p><p><br/>
“I'm not.” Clark said sharply. “I just--” but when he tried to come up with the end of that sentence, nothing came. He shook his head as he kept his stare on the floor, hoping the flush across his face wasn’t noticeable.</p><p> </p><p><br/>
Porter didn’t comment if it was, he simply sent Clark a shy smile. “I get it.” He said. “It’s okay, Clark. I’m not judging you. It’s not like we set out to love mers. It’s more like they wiggle their way into our lives and at first you don’t even know what it is you’re feeling, you just know that you care about them, and they care about you. Then before you know it you’ll do anything to keep them safe and after that-- it’s love.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Yeah, well mine left me, so--” Clark muttered, and it was only as he heard what he’d said that he sputtered. “Not that I <em> have </em> a mer, it's just, what I meant to say--” He cut himself off before huffing. “I’m <em> not </em> a merner.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Porter held up a hand, as though to placate him. “Clark, you really don't have to justify yourself to me. It’s okay. I get it.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“No, you don’t understand, I'm not--” Clark ground his teeth. “I don't <em> love </em> that mer, okay?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Okay.” Porter said softly. </p><p> </p><p>Clark eyed him. “I mean it.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Porter only looked at him and the silence that followed was almost enough to get Clark to speak, if only to fill it, but he didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how best to navigate the maze he had just constructed for himself. He didn’t even understand <em>what</em> he was saying, much less why. He thought he knew what he felt, and yet when he tried to voice it he was left speechless. </p><p> </p><p>Eventually it was Porter who spoke, ending the silence Clark was quickly growing to hate. He stood up and slowly made his way over to the window, peering out of it. “I will say, you still haven’t answered my question. Why are <em> you </em> here, Clark?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark was thankful at least for the change of subject. It did something to loosen the tension he was feeling. He contemplated lying but figured it was only fair to answer truthfully. “The mer out there. I was going to get it down."</p><p> </p><p><br/>
He’d expected Porter to look grateful, but his expression only became more pained. “Please, don't call her ‘it’.” He looked away, shaking his head. “I can only handle it so much...”</p><p> </p><p>Clark kept his eyes on Porter. “But they’re not--”</p><p> </p><p><br/>
He didn’t get a chance to finish as Porter whirled on him. “I mean it. If you finish that sentence, I will smack you.” Porter ground out, his eyes like daggers. “I don't know about <em> your </em> mer, but Elyss <em> was </em> a woman, Yana <em> is </em> a woman, they are not ‘<em>its </em> ’ or ‘<em>things </em>’. Understand?”</p><p> </p><p>Clark debated whether he should push the matter, but one look at Porter told him he’d simply be kicking a broken man whilst he was down, he instead took a breath. “I was going to get... <em> her </em>down.” He amended.</p><p> </p><p>That did something to calm the fire in Porter's eyes as he looked at Clark, his eyes curious. “Why?”</p><p> </p><p>Clark contemplated the question. Even though it was only a single word, it had Clark silent for a good minute as he poured it over. He honestly didn’t know the answer. All he knew was that he had to do this. Knew it most likely had to do with that awful bundle of emotions he could feel festering inside of himself. The more he had dwelled on it, the more his resolve strengthened. He had to get the mer down and yet the actual reason why still eluded him. Eventually his mouth fell open and a single word left him in response. "Guilt." He ended up saying.</p><p> </p><p>"What?” Porter asked, his eyes blowing wide. “Why would you be guilty? You haven't done anything."</p><p> </p><p><em> Maybe not directly. </em> His mind supplied, and in one painful instance, the festering grew even more intense. Clark closed his eyes and tried to urge the feeling away and when he opened them once more, he saw Porter’s expectant eyes still on him. Clark simply looked away. He couldn’t answer that question; not without explaining everything. </p><p> </p><p>He didn't want to admit that the guilt he felt was less from this mers death and more from his consciousness as a whole; from what he did to the mer, to Diana. As much as he liked to deny it, pretty much all of Clark's life was now dictated by some form of guilt and this mer was simply another weight now living on Clark’s shoulders along with the others. </p><p> </p><p>He did concede he had to say something, so with a mirthless laugh, he spoke. "Beats me."</p><p> </p><p>Porter didn’t look satisfied with that answer, but knew better than to push it. He simply went back to his desk and sat down. “Well, I appreciate the gesture either way. I would have gotten her down myself, but I know Antonio is waiting for that.”<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>At the mention of his name, Clark couldn’t help but frown. “Right. I can imagine he’d be pissed with anyone tampering with his ‘display.’”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“I suppose that’s part of the reason…” Porter said, crossing his arms. “But it also has to do with the fact he hates me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why would he hate you?” Clark asked. “I thought he just hated me.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“No, no.” Porter pressed his lips together. “He hates me, too.”</p><p> </p><p>Clark frowned as he tried to discern why. He raised a brow as a thought came to him. “Did he find out about the Sacramento shipment?”<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>That triggered something Clark wasn’t expecting; Porter laughed. It was bitter and sharp and when Clark saw the smile on his face, he could feel the pure vitriol behind it. “Who do you think got me to do it?”</p><p> </p><p>Clark paused, his skepticism evident though not fully realised. “Why would he have wanted you to do it?”</p><p> </p><p>“Lets see…” Porter brought his hand to his mouth, tapping his index finger along his bottom lip as he thought. “He knows about Yana, knew about Elyss, and after Colin’s boat was totaled he didn’t want to go up to Redding to get supplies anymore. So he came to me, asking about getting access to the Sacramento shipment so that he’d be fine when the food shortages started. I told them to piss off, but of course, he just gave me one of his shit eating grins and asked how Yana would feel about me turning them down.” Porter let out a long breath. “In the end, I caved. Did what they wanted. It ate me away knowing that everyone suffered because of me, but I had to do it.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark pursed his lips, leaning against the wall. “‘They?’ You mean it wasn’t just Antonio?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Colin and Steve were in on it, too.” Porter nodded. “Antonio was the ringleader, sure, but they had no qualms about screwing over the island so long as they got their share. The three of them were here at midnight to get the shipment when it came in. I just oversaw it all, and made sure the Redding folks dropping it off didn’t think anything weird was going on.”</p><p> </p><p>“So no one else knows?”</p><p> </p><p>“No. I know Salvator was suspicious when he saw the three of them weren’t struggling like the rest of us were, but in the end he didn’t suspect any foul play, just thought that they were better prepared for food shortages, which technically isn’t wrong." Porter shook his head. "To this day I think he still believes that the shipment went missing. I’m sure if he heard otherwise though, he’d be furious.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“So why not tell him? Hell, why not tell the whole island what they shitheads did. I’m sure they’d listen to you over Antonio.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“I told you.” Porter sighed. “They’d come for Yana. They’d <em> kill </em> her. Just like they killed Elyss.”</p><p> </p><p>“Not to play devil's advocate here, but Elyss killed Tom, so it’s not like her death wasn’t justified.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Porter's expression darkened. “If you really think she killed Tom, you’re a bigger idiot than I thought.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark raised a brow. “How do you know that?”</p><p> </p><p>“I just do!” Porter snapped. “I wasn’t there, sure. Yes, Antonio and the boys may <em> say </em> she killed Tom but it just isn’t the truth. Think about it, they happen to show up at his farm <em> just </em> as she’s killing him? They’d been together for over a year, and she <em> never </em> showed any signs she was unhappy but she just so happens to ‘snap’ when the boys show up? Also, if she was feeling threatened, why would she attack Tom when I know for damn sure he would have been doing everything to try and keep her safe from them? Nothing adds up with their story. They’re lying. I know they are.”</p><p> </p><p>“So, what? You think<em> they </em> killed Tom?” Clark frowned. “That’s a Hell of an accusation to be making.”</p><p> </p><p><br/>
“Well, it’s not without reason.” Porter said sharply, before the fire in his voice lessened. “But you’re right. I know what I’m accusing them of, and I know it makes me sound crazy, but I know I’m right.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, if you were, there would be evidence to support your theory. It's a hard thing to mimic, for one. Mer attack victims tend to look--” As Clark said the words, his mind filled with images that he quickly shook his head to be rid of them. He swallowed thickly. "... a certain way."</p><p> </p><p>Porter laughed again. “That's the best part, Clark. There was no investigation; no autopsy.”</p><p> </p><p>Clark’s mouth fell open, before he managed to close it again. “What?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Oh, did I not mention Antonio is married to the chief of police?” Porter pursed his lips. “Carla’s not exactly going to run an investigation that might implicate her husband, and she’s definitely going to take his word when he tells her it was a mer attack, so no need for an autopsy.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark grimaced, and without even realising it he felt himself slump down the wall. “God, this island is a real shit show.” He muttered to himself. <em> Maybe it would be better if I started going to Manton. </em></p><p><br/>
<br/>
“You’re telling me.” Porter said, shaking his head. “This whole place; it’s like a bag of candy and arsenic. Some people are fine, wonderful even, but you get ones like Antonio that make you live in fear that any day will be your last.” He looked out the window again. “It’s not a coincidence he hung her up in the marina. It’s a warning. He’s letting me know that if I don’t do what he wants, next time, it will be Yana hanging up from there.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“That’s where I come in.” Clark said. “He already hates me, so it’s no skin off my nose to piss him off a little more, and it’s not like I have to worry about him hurting me or my--” He cleared his throat, “<em>the </em> mer.”</p><p> </p><p><br/>
“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.” Porter winced. “I know you’re off on your own island, but if Antonio gets riled he can be ruthless.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“I can be pretty ruthless myself.” Clark said, his expression carefully blank.   </p><p> </p><p>It was then that Clark heard something; the sound of quiet footsteps. He turned and faced the wall, peering through it and saw someone by the hanging mer. “Someones in the marina.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“<em>Shit </em> .” Porter said, rushing from his seat to peer out the window, keeping himself low. “I bet its Antonio, he’s going to do something to her and--”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“No, no.” Clark said, placating Porter with a gentle hand on his shoulder. “It's Marcos.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Marcos?” Porter asked, his confusion evident. “Why on Earth would he be--”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“He brought a ladder.” He watched as Marcos climbed it, and pulled something from his waistband. “He's trying to cut the rope.” Clark added, before turning his attention to Porter. “I’m going to talk to him.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Porter’s eyes blew wide. “Don't tell him I'm here!” He said, already darting completely out of the view of the window. “He might tell Salvator, and then he might tell--”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Don't worry.” Clark said, waving him off. “I’ve got this.”</p><p> </p><p>Clark stepped out of the shipping office, and hovered the short distance over to where Marcos stood by the mer. He had brought a ladder, and was trying his best to cut the rope whilst still keeping his stare out towards where the town lay. Clark could hear his heart hammering in his chest as he floated up to him. He drifted into his peripheral vision. “Hey.” </p><p> </p><p>Marcos’ whirled on him, and before he could slip off the ladder, Clark was there holding him steady. "Jesus!" Marcos yelped, dropping the knife. It clattered to the ground. </p><p> </p><p>Clark for the most part kept his face neutral as he waited. Though he wasn't sure what he was waiting for. Whether it was for Marcos to push him away or for him to head down the ladder and pick the knife right back up and continue with what he had been doing. He hoped for the latter. "Are you getting it down?" He asked, despite knowing the answer already.</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Shush! </em>" Marcos whispered, fear entering his eyes as he looked around. “Someone might hear you.” </p><p> </p><p>"We’re alone." Clark said, keeping his voice the same. </p><p> </p><p>"But--" </p><p> </p><p>Clark didn't bother explaining himself further as he let go of the boy. He took the rope in his hands and pulled it in two where Marcos had already started cutting. The body fell to the ground. Rigor mortis had set in and her body collided against the dock with a loud thump.</p><p> </p><p>Marcos winced at the sound, looking away and closing his eyes. Clark however couldn't place quiet why he didn’t; his eyes never leaving her body as he drifted down to the ground beside her. Face down, she didn't look dead, the skin of her back looked fine, her tail as well. Some part of Clark wanted to believe that if he put her back in the water, she would even start to swim. </p><p> </p><p>But he knew that wouldn’t happen. </p><p> </p><p>"What were you going to do with it?" Clark asked, not looking up from the mermaid. </p><p> </p><p>"I was just gonna put her in the water, " Marcos said quietly, slowly coming down from the ladder. “Mr. Abernathy wouldn’t have wanted this for her."</p><p> </p><p>"Where was he buried?" Clark asked. There wasn’t much free land going on the island, and a graveyard was space that could be better used to help the living rather than house the dead. Most islands didn’t even bother with them.</p><p> </p><p>“He wasn’t.” Marcos said with a shake of the head. “He was cremated.”  </p><p> </p><p>“Right. So where are his ashes?” </p><p> </p><p>“He wanted them scattered into the ocean.” He crossed his arms. “My dad took him out a few days ago and did it.” </p><p> </p><p>Clark gave a nod. “So we’ll keep them together.” He said firmly as he reached forward and scooped the mermaid into his arms. She was soft to the touch, and as he turned her back around to face him, he was confronted with those gentle features again, the softness in her face. She was beautiful and Clark couldn't help but look away.  </p><p> </p><p>As he walked back towards his boat, he heard footsteps following him. "Why are you doing this?" Marcos called out. He didn’t hesitate as he stepped onto the boat after Clark.</p><p> </p><p>“To piss off Antonio.” Clark said, as he set the mer down on the floor.</p><p> </p><p><br/>
“Antonio?” Marcos asked, his confusion evident only to be washed away by a look of understanding. “Is this ‘cause of what he’s been saying about you?” </p><p> </p><p>“That and he’s a prick.” Clark muttered as he started the engine and pulled out of the marina.</p><p> </p><p>Marcos didn’t say anything to that, keeping quiet now that the boat began to move. He would still send furtive glances towards the docks, but when no movement was spotted he seemed to relax, and sat on the sofa as Clark piloted the boat out into open water.</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t mean to, but he ended up taking them to his usual fishing spot. It was a good distance from Cottonwood, and it being so late he knew they weren’t going to be interrupted. He brought the boat to a stop, and without a word picked the mer up once more, walking out to the swimming platform and crouching down at its edge.</p><p> </p><p>Setting his arms into the water, he lowered them until the mers buoyancy took over, allowing her to drift from the boat.</p><p> </p><p>Clark didn’t go back inside, didn't plan on going anywhere for a while. He pulled off his shoes and set his feet into the water. It was cold, but he didn’t mind it.</p><p> </p><p>Marcos joined him a few minutes later, sitting down beside Clark. He pulled his knees up to his chest and hugged them, watching the same patch of water Clark was. Perhaps he was hoping for the same miracle to occur, or maybe he was simply lost in the flow of the waves as well as the mermaid laying amongst them. Facing up to the sky, her eyes closed in endless sleep; she looked at peace and Clark felt his stomach wriggle the longer he looked, so instead he focused on his hands. </p><p> </p><p>Marcos finally opened his mouth. “So you were gonna get her down, too?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Yup.” Clark said, staring at the lines across his palm. “Why were you doing it?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“I told you. Mr. Abernathy wouldn’t want this for her. I <em> knew </em> him, and I know that even if she did kill him, he would be beside himself if he knew she was hanging up somewhere. At least this way, like you said…” he turned to Clark, his eyes misting over. “They’re together.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark gave a solemn nod, and met Marcos’ stare. He didn’t know why he felt the need, but as he sat he felt a question rise up in his mind. “You think she killed him?”</p><p> </p><p>Surprisingly, Marcos didn’t answer straight away, pausing to think. He turned to Clark fully, putting his knees down as he sighed. “Honestly? No. No I don’t.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Why?” Clark asked, his voice purposefully flat.</p><p> </p><p><br/>
Marcos looked to be contemplating that answer before he sighed. “It’s a lot to get into…” he said, shaking his head. “It would mean me getting into all of our islands BS.”</p><p> </p><p>“I mean…” Clark pursed his lips. “We have time if you did want to.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“We really don’t.” Marcos said, standing up then. “In fact, we better head back soon before my dad realises I'm not home in bed right now.”</p><p> </p><p><br/>
“Right.” Clark said, pulling his feet out of the water and standing up to join him. As he did, he noticed movement in the waves. He could have sworn his heart stopped. For a single moment he thought he saw her move, but no, it wasn’t her. </p><p> </p><p>It was another mer.</p><p> </p><p><br/>
Clark was about to yell, to perhaps even throw something into the water to try and dissuade the scavenger, but when he saw a familiar head poke up from the water, all thoughts of yelling were quickly gone, and Clark's mouth bobbed open instead.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
The mer was beside the other, it’s hand trailing along her neck down to the slit in her stomach. It gave a quiet chip. It leant in close to her neck, and as it did Clark was finally able to shout. “Hey! Don’t you dare eat--”</p><p> </p><p>But the mer simply glared at him, not moving away. It pulled in close to her neck and bit down on her throat. In the same movement, it slid one of its long claws deep between her ribs.</p><p> </p><p>Once it pulled back, air hissed out from her neck and chest, and slowly, her body sank lower and lower into the water, until all that remained to suggest she had been there was a faint ripple. That and the mer floating in the water beside it.</p><p> </p><p><br/>
Clark opened his mouth, trying to urge any words out, but the mer only looked at him, a faint growl coming from its mouth.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“I--” but Clark didn’t get a chance to finish that sentence, as the mer slipped back into the water. “Wait!” Clark yelled, hoping it would hear him, but the mer was gone. Swimming down into the water beside the slowly descending body. Clark swallowed thickly and wiped his face. <em> It’s okay, at least. </em> He thought to himself. <em> It’s not hanging up somewhere. </em> <strike><em> It definitely hates you, though. </em> </strike></p><p> </p><p><br/>
“Trouble in paradise?”</p><p> </p><p>Clark was startled by the voice and turned wildly towards Marcos, who was watching him with a grim smile. “Your mer.” He added, tilting his head towards the water it had just been. “Looks like it was mad at you.” </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I--” Clark turned to the water too, hoping if he looked long enough it would reappear. It did not. “I kind of fucked up.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Well, it can’t have been that bad.” Marcos said, walking up the steps from the platform, back inside the boat. “I mean, it didn't try to pull you into the water just now, so it can’t be <em> that </em>mad.” </p><p> </p><p><br/>
Clark nodded absent mindedly. “Right, it...” But his mind snapped back to reality and he trailed off, looking down at his damp feet. “It didn’t try to pull me in...” He muttered to himself. </p><p> </p><p>Marcos was already inside, starting the boat and pulling away. Clark remained rooted where he stood. </p><p> </p><p><em> It doesn’t mean anything. </em> He told himself, but another part of him-- a part Clark had been spending quite a lot of time squashing down-- wondered if that really was true. If the mer really did want him dead, then <em> that </em> would have been the perfect opportunity to potentially cause it. They were out in open water, in the dead of night, with the only other person out here with him being Marcos, who, let's face it, wouldn’t have been able to do much should Clark get dragged in.</p><p> </p><p><em> So… It doesn’t want me dead? </em> Clark ended up thinking to himself. Maybe it was just a coincidence, maybe it meant nothing, and yet even as he went to join Marcos inside the cabin, he dwelled on it.  </p><p> </p><p>He found him in front of the wheel, trailing his finger along the map on the console beside it. When he felt Clark’s presence, he turned to him, his finger immediately going towards the red ‘x’ that marked a lonesome island nearby. “Is that where you live?” He asked.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark only nodded, still not trusting himself to speak.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Marcos himself didn't push for more, turning back towards the wheel and changing the course by a fraction as he turned his attention back to the map. “Maybe one day I can come visit you there,” he said, with a small shrug. “You know, if you ever wanted to hang out.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark felt himself frown at the words, before he realised that he didn’t actually mind that idea as much as he thought he would. He came up close to Marcos and eased him aside as he took over steering, he caught his eye and sent him a nod. “Sure. Just don’t complain about how I live and we will be fine.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Marcos smiled at that, and bumped his shoulder. “You should see my room, my dad tells me he’s gonna send me to a farm if I insist on living like a pig.”</p><p> </p><p>They spoke intermittently on their journey back to Cottonwood, and when Clark pulled into the marina, Marcos hopped off before the boat even came to a complete stop. He turned to Clark and whispered. “Okay, I better head back, you take care now, Clark.”<br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>“You too, Marcos.” He sent a nod. “See you around.”</p><p> </p><p>By the time he got back to his island, sleep was all he could focus on. So much so that he walked from his boat to his bed in a haze. He fell against it without even bothering to undress, and the moment he felt his face in the pillow, he was asleep.</p><p> </p><p>The mer in the water watched him for a little while longer before ducking back down into the waves.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Happy New Years eve to all! I debated posting this tomorrow instead, but I'm working then and I figured one last update before the New Year was just as good as one on the 1st :D </p><p>But yes, for this chapter, the mystery around Cottonwood grows, Clark realises (partially) that he was an asshole, and Blue may not have forgiven him 'just' yet, but hey, he's back to stalking which lets be real means he won't be mad for too much longer ;) </p><p>As always let me know your thoughts, reading your theories just makes me so happy, and I will see you all in the New Year! Fingers crossed its better than 2020! XD </p><p>Take care x</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> May 22nd 2016  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I saw the mer today. It was as I was watering the flowers; I could see it in the shallows on the other side of the island, but when I tried to approach it, it ducked back down and swam away.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p><em> I guess it’s something. </em> <strike><em> He’s </em></strike> <em> It’s still pissed, but at least it’s coming near the island again.  </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I just don’t know how to fix things. I mean, if it doesn’t stick around long enough to listen to me, It’s not like I can just yell ‘I’m sorry’ at the water, right? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> … Unless? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> --- </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <em> May 23rd 2016 </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Tried it. Didn't work.   </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> --- </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> May 24th 2016 </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Okay, I have a better idea. </em>
</p><p><em><br/>
</em> <em><br/>
</em> <em> I figure if I lure it to the surface somehow; it will stay out long enough for me to at least try and apologize, and if that doesn’t work then, hey, as far as I’m concerned I did all I could and the mer should be thankful I even tried.  </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I won’t lie, I’m being selfish here. Yes, I’m guilty about what I did, but it's what that guilt is causing that I want to deal with. I haven’t slept properly for a while now and I’m just hoping apologizing to the mer will fix that. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I never thought I’d ever miss the ocean dream, but when the alternative is seeing the mer hanging up dead, turns out I’d rather be in the water. </em>
</p><p> </p><p><em> Even if it means apologizing to a </em> <strike><em> stupid </em></strike> <em> fish </em> <em><strike> thing</strike> </em> <em> . </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em> --- </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> May 27th 2016 </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strike> <em> Alright. Today is the day. Operation forgiveness is a go. </em> </strike>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strike> <em> I can’t believe I fucking wrote that. You know what, no entry for today. </em> </strike>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> --- </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>It started with a trip to Sacramento.</p><p> </p><p>It had to be Sacramento as they were the only place Clark knew would sell what he was after. Well, Cottonwood might, but for a much higher markup, and with what he had done there only a week prior most likely still being a hot topic on the island, he didn’t want to return and stoke the ire of the place any further.</p><p> </p><p>He was fairly certain Antonio knew it was him who took the mer. Clark doubted there were many other suspects. Porter wouldn’t say anything to the contrary lest confirm he had been at the marina all night, and Marcos wasn’t about to confess his own involvement in the affair and risk his father finding out. </p><p> </p><p>After saving the mer from Antonio and Co’s ire, Clark wouldn’t put it past Antonio to put two and two together and achieve the very correct answer that he was the one to blame. He only hoped by the time he did go back to Cottonwood, there wouldn’t be another mer hanging up there instead. </p><p> </p><p>That was his current fear. Whether it be the mer or Yana, or Hell, another mer entirely, Clark worried that soon Antonio would decide that a new art piece was needed in the marina, and Clark wouldn’t be there to stop him.</p><p> </p><p>Shaking that thought from his head, he stepped off his boat onto the Sacramento marina. He had chosen the Southern port as the North was for commercial usage, but even so, the place was jam packed. After looking around at the multitude of boats he felt his heart begin to hammer. He couldn’t remember the last time he visited a city this big. Couldn’t remember a time he saw so many people in one place.</p><p><br/>
<em><br/>
</em> <em> Yes you can. </em>His mind supplied as he walked along the dock. </p><p> </p><p>He let out a shallow breath. Despite how much he tried to tell himself it wasn’t the case, he knew exactly why he never visited Sacramento before this. Why didn't he go to any of the larger islands nearby. They reminded him of Metropolis. In fact, they did more than remind him. There was an eerie similarity that all large islands now held in his mind, and being on one only had his mind confusing the present and the past. The world around him seemed to shift, morph from one image to another. He kept his stare on the floor to try and ground himself. <em> This isn't Metropolis. Metropolis is gone.  </em></p><p> </p><p>He just had to buy what he needed and leave before he lost his nerve. It was as he made his way along the dock, eyes cast downwards, that he bumped shoulders with a man. Before he could mumble an apology and be on his way he heard something. “Clark?”</p><p> </p><p>Clark stilled, his palms growing clammy in an instant. He tried to analyse the voice he was hearing to determine if he should keep walking or even run, but it wasn’t one he knew immediately, so with great hesitation he turned and saw a man he vaguely recognized.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“It was Clark, wasn’t it?” The man asked, readjusting his glasses as he eyed Clark up and down.</p><p> </p><p><br/>
“Uh.” Clark said, frowning as he tried to place the man. He really couldn’t. “Sorry, have we met?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
The man’s eyes blew wide. “Oh, forgive me. We did only meet once prior.” He held out his hand, and with some reluctance Clark took it. “Dr. Hadal, but please, call me Elijah, or Eli. I’m not too fussy.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.” Recognition hit Clark, and he nodded. “Right, the marine biologist?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Yes!” Elijah said with a grin. “It’s good to see you again, I believe it’s been…” he paused and brought his finger to his lips, tapping it. “Well, a long time.” He ended up saying with a half shrug.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Yeah.” Clark agreed, pursing his lips. “How have you been?”</p><p> </p><p><br/>
“Good!” Elijah nodded. “Very good. I was actually on my way to Cottonwood. Just stopped here for a quick refuel. They have a mer there for me, you see.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark didn’t think it was possible for his heart to stop and yet as the seconds ticked by he could have sworn he didn’t feel it pump once. “Do they now?” He ended up asking, despite how the words felt like shards glass as they came out of his mouth.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Yes, yes.” Elijah said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. “My contact faxed this to me, said she’s ready to be collected.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
She. Clark felt the weight slide of his shoulders, before it went right back again. <em> She. Porter. </em> He snatched the paper from Elijah and ignored his half-hearted complaints as he read through it.</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> 19th of May 2016 </em>
</p><p><br/>
<em> Hey, fish guy. Found a mer, she’s hanging in the marina. You can come get her if you want, just leave payment in the usual spot. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> A.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>---</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.” Clark let out, his relief palpable. It’s not the mer.<em> It’s not Yana either</em>. He took a few more breaths as he read through the paper again, fighting the urge to burn it as he thought about the man who must have wrote it. Eventually he held it back out to Eli. “You know this fax is from a week ago, right?” </p><p> </p><p>“<em> What? </em> ” Elijah blurted as he took the paper back, his eyes imminently going to the corner and spotting the date. “Oh.” He sighed, pursing his lips. “I must have lost track of time… Was it really a week…?” He shook his head. “No matter, I’ll still head on over. She might still be there, if not a little worse for wear.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Yeah, she’s not.” Clark shook his head.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Elijah raised a brow. “How do you know that?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark was about to tell the truth, but quickly looked away. No point in admitting what he did to man he barely knew. “I just do.” He opted for instead. “You’ll just have to believe me; you’ll be wasting your time if you go over there.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
He knew Elijah wanted to hear more, but in the end didn’t press for it. He instead shrugged and put the letter back in his pocket. “I suppose I should be thankful…” He muttered. “Getting there only to find her gone would have indeed been a waste of time.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark nodded and when the silence stretched on, he figured there was no point in extending this liaison for longer than necessary. He opened his mouth to say goodbye but before he could Elijah looked up at him, his eyebrows pulling together.<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“I have to ask-- did you manage to get a look at her?” At Clark's expression he brought up his hands. “If I am to believe you when you say she wasn’t there on your last visit, then I have to assume so you at least saw her.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark swallowed, the vivid memory of her body and face coming to mind. “I did.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Elijah pulled out a notebook from his jacket, and flipped it open. He then reached for the pen behind his ear and brought them together. “Then, if it's not too much trouble, could you describe her to me?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“<em>What </em> ?” Clark scowled. “Why the fuck would I do that?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Oh, you don’t need to tell me about her wounds or her level of decomposition. I just want to know the scale colour.” He looked at Clark expectantly, and when he remained silent. “I can pay you if that makes a difference?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<em> I doesn't, </em> Clark wanted to say, and yet he didn’t. “Why do you want to know what colour her scales were?” He ended up asking.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Well, if they were a certain colour, i'll feel better about not getting to examine her.”</p><p> </p><p>Clark was still confused, but with a shrug he said. “Green. Like seaweed.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
The look on Elijah’s face was hard to discern, but the number one emotion Clark noticed was disappointment. He didn’t even bother writing anything down, sliding his notepad and pen back into his pockets with a sigh. “I thought as much, but still, it was nice to not have the possibility of it being an abyssal fin that got away plague me. Here. Your payment--” he reached into his back pocket for his wallet, and when it opened, Clark couldn’t help his mouth dropping at the obscene number of notes bursting from within. Elijah pulled out a single hundred dollar bill and held it out to Clark.</p><p> </p><p><br/>
He took it, giving it once over as Elijah put away his wallet. As he folded the note and put it in his own, he tilted his head, eyeing Elijah as he adjusted his coat. “What colour were you wanting the mer to be?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Hum?” Elijah asked, as though pulled from another thought, and after a moment, he nodded rapidly. “Oh, the scales. Right. You see, my research primarily concerns abyssal fins, so if they’re algas or helios fins, I’m not as fussed about not being able to examine them.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“What is that supposed to mean?”</p><p> </p><p>“The scales; the colour corresponds to their species.” He said simply. When Clark frowned, he continued. “Well, you didn’t think there was only once species of mer, right?” He began to smile, before seeing Clark’s face remain the same. He cleared his throat, his smile quickly retreating. “There are hundreds, maybe even thousands of species of mer, each with different traits and evolutionary backgrounds. The more common mers; the algas and helios varieties, are categorized by their green or yellow scales, abyssal fins on the other hand are categorized by black scales.”</p><p> </p><p>“Black scales?” Clark made a face. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a mer with black scales.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Oh, no one has.” Elijah agreed. “They’re extremely rare, some even say they’re now extinct. In fact, most would say they’re now extinct.”</p><p> </p><p><br/>
Clark huffed. “And yet you seemed to think one would be hanging it up in Cottonwood.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Well, I didn’t think they actually found an abyssal fin, but my contact mentioned almost catching a black fin in our previous correspondence, and I had hoped that he’d been successful this time around and <em> that </em> mer would be the one I was collecting today.”</p><p> </p><p>“And a black fin. That’s a…?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Another species of mer.” Elijah nodded. “Though, the name is actually a misnomer. Their scales are actually dark blue in colour, not black.”</p><p> </p><p>At the words Clark swallowed thickly. <em> He couldn’t mean… </em> “<em>Dark </em> blue?” He repeated.</p><p> </p><p>Elijah nodded. “Right. It has to be a dark blue. A light or aqua blue is indicative of a nuage or pavos fin, but a dark blue is only found in black fins. I won’t bore you with all of my theories, but it’s my belief that black fins are the closest relatives of the abyssal fins, and abyssal fins are just--” He closed his eyes, a small pulling across his lips. “They’re the purest of mers. They reside in the deepest parts of the oceans; their bodies having perfectly adapted to the high pressure and darkness.” Elijah closed his eyes, a smile pulling across his face. “What I wouldn’t give to see one in the flesh. Alas, you’d have to be way down at the bottom of the ocean to have a hope of seeing one alive.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“You don’t say.” Clark said almost mechanically. Something about what he was hearing was stirring up a thought in his mind, but he didn’t know what exactly, so with mild trepidation; he waited.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Oh yes.” Elijah nodded. “See, the reason most think they’re extinct is due to the only recent evidence of them still existing being a corpse that washed up during the last big quake. Mers of all species washed up on shores after the Metropolis quake, but one of them was bloated beyond all recognition. It had decompressed; violently, might I add, and the only fin ever theorized to live deep enough in the ocean for explosive decompression to occur, is, you guessed it, the abyssal fin.”</p><p> </p><p><br/>
“Right.” Clark mumbled. Why was he thinking about his dream right now? The feeling of the water was coming back to him, the pressure, that same feeling of anticipation. <em> The water. What was in the water? </em></p><p> </p><p>“I will say I’ve enjoyed our talk.” Elijah said with a smile. “My contemporaries might think my theories and practices are… controversial. But I know that my research will amount to something, unlike theirs. How many times can we reread the same paper discussing inter-species communication or migration patterns before we know all there is? Truth of the matter is that there is so much more to mers than what meets the eye, and I plan on proving my theories. One way or another.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark had long since stopped listening. His mind in another place entirely.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> The bottom of the ocean. Deep down in the ocean-- </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> --A lone eel in the water. Black eyes in the darkness. Sharp teeth snapping shut. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The image flooded his mind. </p><p> </p><p>Clark gagged.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
He bent over as dribbles of saliva left his mouth. Nothing else left his system thankfully, even as he felt his eyes start to swim. Elijah’s hand hovered near his shoulder, though never made contact. “Um. Are you okay?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“I just--” Clark gasped, but he didn’t go on. He saw it. For a split second, he saw something he’d thought he purged from his mind. </p><p> </p><p>He pulled back, stepping away from Elijah and bumping into another person as he did. “It was nothing. Thanks for the chat Doc but I gotta go.” He whirled around and practically ran down the dock. </p><p> </p><p>“Wait!” Elijah yelled. But Clark didn’t wait; didn’t stop for a moment, even as he heard him yell. “If you find a fin, let me know! I’ll pay you! Good money!” </p><p> </p><p>He only stopped running when the sound of the marina was nothing more than a faint hum. </p><p> </p><p>Once he was in the city proper; he doesn’t remember what he did next. Doesn’t remember much of anything until he was standing back on his boat. With the city of Sacramento already becoming a faint smudge away in the distance. </p><p> </p><p>He looked at the supplies he must have bought, then out at the open water he currently sailed through. How he got here, and how long he had been here was beyond him. The main thing he focused on was that his mind was quiet for now, with not even a faint memory of the past few hours managing to make its way though. That was good though, Clark tried to rationalize. His memory was asleep and he didn’t want to reawaken it by prodding it with questions.</p><p> </p><p>It was as he looked at the package wrapped in wax paper in and among his other supplies that he debated what he was going to do once he could go back home. He could go and try and lure the mer tonight. That would be the most productive use of his time.</p><p> </p><p>Or, he could fall into bed and ignore the world until morning.</p><p> </p><p>That’s what he ended up doing, his mind and body capable of little else in that moment.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Happy new year to you all!</p><p>I hope you liked this chapter. Istg I may need to add 'mystery' to the tags, cause I am just laying on the intrigue thick and fast.</p><p>That is mostly cause there is a lot going on behind the scenes of this universe, and in order for us to get to the real meat of Clark and Blue's relationship, I have to lay a lot of ground work.</p><p>I know you guys want smooches, and they will come! Eventually! But we gotta w o r k for the smooches.</p><p>Until then I hope you all enjoy this fic of mine, and let me know your theories and ideas! Honestly seeing you guys theorize and wonder what is going to happen makes me so so happy -w- </p><p>Anyway! I will catch you all next time! x</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> 28th of May 2016 </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> I slept last night, which is something. No dreams whatsoever. Though I can feel them there, lurking in my mind. I know if I think too hard they’ll come back to me, so for now, I’m just going to do my best to distract myself. </em>
</p>
<p><em><br/></em> <em> Good thing I have plans for today. </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>---</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As Clark brought his boat to stop at his usual fishing spot, he gave a cursory look around the water. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He was out later than he usually would be, but given the mer was more active at night, he figured early evening would be the best time to strike. The sun was hanging low in the sky by the time he walked out onto the swim platform, and he paused to breath the crisp air. Summer was almost here and Clark relished the warmth in the breeze.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He picked up the bucket he had prepared earlier, and with no other thought in mind other than what he had set out to do, he threw the contents out into the water.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The fish guts and blood sloshed out and with a wet slap collided with the waves. The blood quickly dissipated, leaving only a trail of murky brown to hint at it being there. The organs however remained floating in place, bobbing up and down with each press of the tide.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clark didn’t know what he was expecting to happen. Really, he should have waited until he knew the mer was at least near by before emptying the bucket, but he didn’t, and now instead of the mer, there was a shark coming to investigate. Great.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clark didn’t count himself out yet, even if it was looking to turn out that way. He did have another ace up his sleeve, but he had hoped to present it to the mer when he was able to at least speak with it, and not to just throw it into the water and hope it would appear. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>As the shark circled the boat and displaced the bucket's contents even further in its search, Clark quickly remembered things never panned out how he wanted them too and hoping otherwise here was foolish.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The shark looped around the boat a few more times, and when no more food appeared in the waters, it swam away, leaving a now sullen Clark alone once more. He let out a sigh, and set himself down on the floor, crossing his legs as he stared at the spot where the fish guts had once been. “Good job, Clark. Why don’t you just throw yourself in there now? Might work better...” he muttered to himself.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He covered his face with his hands as he tried to think up his next move. As he thought, he heard the water splash and figured it was the shark coming back around for a second pass. “Go away, there is nothing for you here.” He muttered. There was no response, not that Clark expected one from a shark. After hearing another splash, he looked up, expecting to see a grey fin, but was instead confronted with an icy glare. “Holy shit.” He let out. “Uh.”<br/><br/></p>
<p>The mer looked at him, a small scowl pulling down at it’s lips. When Clark tried to stand, it retreated into the water, and Clark found himself holding his hands out, pleading to it. “Wait!” The mer’s ears twitched at the shout. “Please, don’t swim away.”<br/><br/></p>
<p>It didn’t. It stayed in place, and whether it was because it understood him, or because Clark just so happened to look rather pathetic as he spoke, he didn't know. But it stayed, and that was the important thing. Eventually Clark got up onto his knees, edging closer to the edge as he kept his eyes on the mer. “I don’t know how much you can understand, but I wanted to tell you I am sorry.” The mer ears twitched, and when it ducked into the water Clark nearly threw in the towel, wanting to go back inside and retreat himself, but the mer didn't leave. It swam closer, poking its head back out of the water once it was by the platform's edge.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When the mers full attention was on him, Clark let out a breath he didn't even know he had been holding. “I was angry." He began. "I was angry because of Diana, because of what she said, and I took that out on you, which I shouldn’t have done.” Clark pursed his lips, bringing his hands together and looking at his connected fingers. “She had a point though-- annoyingly. I mean, I really shouldn’t be talking to you. I shouldn’t be interacting with you period, but--” Clark frowned. “I am.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I don’t know why, really.” He shrugged. “Your kind hurt humans. Eat them, and drag them into the water. I’ve seen it, and the fact of the matter is, you aren't much better. Sure, I ain’t seen you kill a human, but you snapped that other mers neck like it was nothing so it’s not like you’re above killing.”</p>
<p><br/><br/>He chanced a look at the mer, and saw those eyes on him, bright and curious. He looked away again. “Maybe that’s why I keep coming back to you. Despite it all, you intrigue me. You ain’t like any mer I’ve ever seen, and maybe…” he thought to Dr. Hadal’s words as his eyes swiped over the dark blue scales across his body. “Maybe that means you’re not like others. Maybe you’re... good.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>At the word, the mer pointed at itself and nodded. Clark couldn’t help but smile. “Okay, maybe not <em>good</em> good but not evil, at least.”<br/><br/></p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Which leads me to the last part of my apology.” Clark got up from his spot, and ignored the mers chirps as he made his way inside. He went into the small kitchenette and found the plate he had prepared earlier; wrapped in tinfoil on the counter. Beneath the foil was his surprise. He had cooked it earlier, letting it rest on the ride over.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He walked back to the platform and sat down. “I figured this was the best way for me to say sorry, considering words are, you know...” He trailed off, before pulling the foil away. The mer came in close to investigate, its nose twitching as it hovered over the plate. “It’s steak. Prime rib. I figured you’ve never eaten beef before, so...” He brought the plate closer to the mer. “I won’t lie. It ain’t raw. I did grill it, but just for a couple seconds each side, and I think you’ll agree the taste is just…'' Clark had to swallow his saliva as he looked at it. He wished he had brought another for himself whilst in Sacramento, but considering he doesn’t even remember buying this one, he should be thankful he managed to get even one. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The mer sniffed at it for a little while longer, then with great hesitation and a few quiet chirps, brought its hand out of the water, reaching for the steak and picking it up. It brought its other hand to poke at the crust, scraping its claw across the char grilled surface, before dragging it across his tongue as though testing it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It must have liked what it tasted as it immediately sunk its jaws into the steak, its pupils dilating. As it ripped the steak apart, Clark was both equal parts horrified and impressed. He knew its teeth were sharp, but seeing them practically slide through the meat reminded Clark of just how capable of a predator was before him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He had hoped the mer would take it’s time eating the steak as Clark himself would do if given such a prime cut, but no, within moments the steak was gone and it was gnawing at the bone with unparalleled intensity. When even that was picked clean, it dropped the bone into the water and went for the plate, screaming at the empty surface as though somehow, more would appear if it screamed for long enough.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clark laughed when the mer turned its angry stare his way. “That’s it.” He held up his hands to show they were empty. “There is no more.”</p>
<p><br/><br/>The mer glared as it slammed the plate against the platform, its screeches growing louder.</p>
<p><br/><br/>Clark’s smile didn’t falter. “Sorry, but that’s your lot. You should have savoured it.”</p>
<p><br/><br/>More screeching came along with a few hand gestures, but eventually it quieted down, though not without throwing the plate out into the water.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It pouted as it descended under the water, sitting just below the surface, arms crossed. Clark tried to prevent himself from laughing at it further, but failed. “Come on now, don’t be like that...” When the mer didn’t move from it’s spot, Clark put his hand into the water, splashing it around just underneath the surface. “Don’t pout.” He said softly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The mer looked up at his hand and Clark thought about pulling it out now that he had the mers attention, but he didn’t. He kept it submerged even as he saw the mer unfold its arms, and bring its own hand up to meet his.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clark held his breath as he waited. Was this it? Would the mer try and pull him down now that the moment was just right? Now that they were alone? Or was he really right about it not being like the others? He just didn’t know, and that feeling of uncertainty finally emerged from the pit of emotions bundled up in his stomach, sidling right up alongside the guilt, which, of course, hadn't gone anywhere, only lessening.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The mer’s hand touched his, those long claws sliding between his fingers, and once they were through, closing around them gently.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clark didn’t let go. Didn’t try to tug his hand free, but slowly, he brought his hand back up, lifting the mer up in the water. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Then, before he knew it, there it was, back in front of him, its face no longer petulant and instead filled with awe.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As Clark watched its face, trying to read the minutiae of the emotions passing across it, a burning question he’d had for so long came back to him. “Can you understand me?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The mer’s ears flicked as it let go of Clark’s hand. Whether it recognized a word or perhaps the whole sentence, it pointed at its own ears and gestured to the world around them, before shaking its head.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So, that's a no?'' Clark frowned. “But then, how…” he huffed. “You have to understand parts of what i'm saying, right? Otherwise how do you even know what I’m asking you?”</p>
<p><br/><br/>It’s expression grew pained, and once again, it pointed at its ears, but this time waved its hand by them. It then made a motion of opening and closing his hand by his ear, and again repeated that same waving motion with another shake of the head.</p>
<p><br/>Clark tried to understand the motions, but eventually he held up his hand to stop the mer from repeating them over and over, as with each attempt Clark only grew more confused. “I still don’t follow.”</p>
<p><br/><br/>The mer huffed, and ducked into the water. Clark almost protested, but when he saw it make those same motions, this time underwater, he saw it nodding instead of shaking its head, and after a minute or so it came back up, its eyes wide with anticipation.</p>
<p><br/><br/>“Something about the water?” Clark ventured.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The mer squinted as though focusing in on those words, and this time nodded rapidly, chirping over and over as it repeated the motions, above water this time. That hand by its ear opened and closed and now the mer made a high pitched screech. It ducked into the water, and when it repeated the motion, Clark instead heard it make another noise entirely, a quiet hum that sounded almost musical.</p>
<p><br/><br/>When it came back out of the water, Clark's mouth fell open. “The water.” He said looking at the waves. “You hear better in the water? Is that it?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>More squinting, and this time instead of nodding the mer lunged for him. Clark fell back with a thud against the platform, and for one horrifying moment he expected to feel the rush of water over his body. But that didn’t happen. Instead he found himself looking up into the mer’s face as it grinned down at him, chirping away. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Okay, okay.” Clark muttered, clearing his throat and ignoring the heat across his face. “You may be able to understand me a little, but I still can’t understand you. Like, at all.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>More chirps came and the mer lowered itself closer to his face, so close Clark could suddenly smell the steak on it’s breath. His eyes blew wide as he pushed the mer back. “<em>Whoa </em>now, what are you doing?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The mer only frowned, grasping at Clark’s hands that held it up and away, but Clark didn’t move them. Eventually it chirped and pointed at Clark’s forehead, and when Clark still didn’t move his hands, the pointing turned to tapping, then before long, slapping.</p>
<p><br/><br/>“Ow, fine!” Clark removed his hands, and the mer fell back against him. Clark looked away, and tried to ignore the fact that the mer was completely on top of him, specifically, certain <em> parts </em> of him, and hoped it would do what it wanted to do and then get back in the water where Clark didn’t have to deal with seeing all of its body, much less feeling it. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The mer slowly lowered itself back down. Clark watched it for a moment, and tried to ignore what he was feeling. He told himself the gentle touch of the mers hands on either side of his jaw didn't feel nice, and how the weight of it’s forehead on his own wasn’t comforting. No, these gestures meant nothing, and he had to remember that. He closed his eyes and waited. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It stayed there, face pressed against his for a few minutes, and even as the time ticked by, Clark felt he didn’t have it in himself to push it away a second time. So he lay there, waiting to see what it would do next. Eventually the mer made a few noises, low in the back of its throat, and when even more time passed, Clark eventually opened his eyes and saw the frown on the mers face as it pulled away. “Uh.” Clark said, tilting his head. “Was that meant to do something?”</p>
<p><br/><br/>The mer slapped him on the forehead again, and this time Clark let out a gasp. “Hey!” Clark barked. “Don’t hit me!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ignoring him, the mer hit him once more for good measure before apparently giving up on the endeavour and rolling off of Clark and onto the platform. It gave a few more half hearted chirps before wiggling it’s way off and back into the water, where it once again commenced its sullen bobbing.</p>
<p><br/><br/>Clark sighed. “Look, I'm sorry for yelling, but you <em> were </em> hitting me.” The mer’s expression stayed the same, so Clark asked. “What were you even trying to do?” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The mer only waved him off, and Clark couldn’t exactly blame it. If he had to perform charades every time he had to convey anything, he’d get fed up too. He supposed he could try and teach it sign language, but given that he didn’t know sign language himself that idea failed before it even started.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He doubted the mer was going to come out of its tantrum anytime soon, so rather than let the day go to waste, Clark grabbed his fishing rod and started to fish. Eventually the mer must have realised there was no point in sulking and ducked into the water, swimming underneath where Clark’s line lay. As Clark watched him through the water, he realised just how difficult he was to spot, and if Clark was having difficulty, he knew the fish had no chance, as evident by the ones ending up in his bucket. The mer swam around in sharp bursts, snatching the errant fish and dumping them in Clark’s bucket far quicker than he was managing to. Eventually the bucket became full, and Clark put the line down. As the mer came back with another fish, Clark shook his head, pointing at the mer. “You eat that one, I got plenty.”</p>
<p><br/><br/>The mer looked at the fish, and without any more encouragement, bit its head off, crunching down on its skull. Clark looked away wincing. “Jesus, you really aren't a picky eater are you?”</p>
<p><br/><br/>It made a face and must have understood what Clark’s words and grimace meant, as its next bite was smaller and less filled with bones. That only made Clark feel worse and he sighed. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad. You eat it however you wanna eat it.”  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He didn’t know if the words got through, as it still didn’t resume its earlier evisceration of the fish, but as it finished one, it brought its hand up to the bucket and looked to Clark, it’s eyes going towards the pile of still twitching fish within. Clark nodded. “Go nuts.”</p>
<p><br/><br/>The mer brought another fish to its mouth and crunched down on its skull, and this time Clark fought to keep his expression neutral. The mer only ate one more fish after that, which would have had Clark questioning how he was able to eat so much, but given how muscular the mer was, it stood to reason it had to eat a lot to maintain its size. </p>
<p> </p>
<p><br/>Once it had had its fill, it flopped onto its back and floated on the water for a moment. It closed its eyes and began to swim, pushing itself along with broad strokes of its tail. As it looped around the boat Clark started to put his fishing gear away, and once that was done, returned to his spot to watch it swim.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was hypnotizing to watch. With each press of its tail, it glided through the water effortlessly. But, with the way it was swimming, Clark had no choice but to stare at the pale skin of its chest.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Well, he supposed he could stare at his own hands, or the water, or Hell even the sky, but with each splash of water the mers tail caused, Clark found his eyes being drawn to it, watching the way it moved.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ordinarily he didn’t feel much looking at a mer. He knew objectively they were attractive, but everything else he knew about them made that physical appeal not go very far. Sadly, this mer didn’t look like other mers, didn’t act like other mers, and as far as Clark was considered, it may as well not have been one if the way he was acting around it was anything to go by.</p>
<p><br/><br/>He helped it, fed it, saved it, and now here he was watching it as it swam lazy circuits around his boat. He had told himself the apology was for his own selfish needs; to be able to sleep properly at night and deal with the guilt slowly crushing him, but in reality he just didn’t want to see the mer be mad at him anymore. Something about seeing its cold stare aimed his way, hit him more than any punch ever could.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But it also invited with it a whole host of thoughts Clark didn’t want to deal with. As he watched the mer, his eyes sticking to the milky skin of its chest, he thought of what it had felt like to feel that skin on him. To feel the weight of another person on top of him brought back memories of a time where he was used to that sort of physically, now all it did was cause his body to grow hot and his mind to grow fuzzy. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He tried to tell himself that it was a mer, and that what he was feeling was part of what made them such evil predators, but that was just it. The mer wasn’t even <em> trying </em>to seduce him, at least, not in a way Clark was familiar with. Last he’d checked hitting and screeching were not effective ways to get into someone's pants, so <em>why</em> was it doing it?</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Well, it's working for you. </em>Clark’s mind provided and he groaned at the thought. Of course, here he was catching feelings for something that any normal person wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole. Even the die hard merners out there would side eye Clark for his inexplicable taste. ‘There are less ugly ones, you know’ they’d say ‘ones that don't crunch on skulls and scream all the time’, and Clark would have to explain how this mer--</p>
<p> </p>
<p>This mer <em> was </em> beautiful.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He groaned again, and shoved his hands into his sockets for good measure. When he looked back at the mer it was still swimming around lazily, and as the sun finally dipped below the horizon, the air grew cold and the night sky shone above them. Clark would normally leave now, but the mer was still here, and he found he couldn’t leave it just yet.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em> It</em>, he repeated. <em> It. </em> Why <em> it </em>?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Porter's words came back to him. <em> ‘I don't know about your mer, but Elyss was a woman, Yana is a woman, they are not ‘its ’ or ‘things.’ </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>He knew objectively it was male. Hell, it had all the same features Clark had, just with a few additions. Namely a tail and claws and scales and-- well, quite a lot of stuff actually now that Clark thought about it, but the main thing he dwelled on was that the mer wasn’t an it. “You’re male.” Clark said quietly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The mer stopped swimming then. He looked at Clark, tilting his head as though asking Clark to repeat himself. He didn’t though; what he had said was for Clark himself to hear and understand. The mer didn't need to know. “It’s nothing." Clark muttered with a wave of his hand. "Go back to swimming.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clark ended up staying out in the open water that night, and even as he fell asleep on the platform, he didn’t awaken during the night to the feeling of water rushing across his body. Instead, he opened his eyes come morning and saw the mer perched on the edge of platform, resting his head on his folded arms.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The mer awoke a few minutes later. As he let out a yawn and sent a tired smile Clark's way, Clark swallowed thickly. The mer had stayed here all night; had most likely kept the errant mers away as he slept, and more importantly didn't drag him into the water.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Even as Clark got up and washed his face in the bathroom, he could feel the pit within himself growing, and knew full well what was causing it. He grit his teeth as he stared at himself in the mirror, trying to will away those thoughts away. He had to be strong here.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He had to be.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Here it isssss!!!</p>
<p>I hope you all liked this chapter. Clark no longer sees Blue as an it! He's making progress. Slowly! XD</p>
<p>I had a lot of fun writing Blue and Clark's antics this chapter, and I hope you are all liking it too! We shall have to see what our boys get up to next chapter ;) </p>
<p>As always, lemme know your thoughts! And I will see you all next time! Take care :3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>June 5th 2016</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I had that dream last night. I was at the bottom of the ocean again but this time when I looked out into the water, I saw something in the distance. It wasn’t what I was expecting, though; it was a lake. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Why there was a lake down there, I don’t know, but I slowly started drifting towards it and when I got to the edge, I woke up. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I didn’t go back to sleep that night; I just ended up reading, trying to keep the dream from my mind. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I think I know what’s down there, and I just don’t know if I can deal with seeing it right now.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>---</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>June 12th 2016</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The mer has been coming to the island pretty much every day now. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>When I go out to fish, he’s there. When I’m watering crops, he’s there. Heck even when I’m sleeping, I get woken up by him screaming at me from the water.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I figured he wouldn’t want to sleep in the tub when he wasn’t, you know, nearly dying, but some nights he’d be screaming at me so much I’d have no choice but to go out and get him. Worst part is I know the little shit can get inside without me carrying him, but no, he has to be carried or else he’ll keep screaming. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Once in the tub, he won’t go to sleep or anything, he’ll stay awake and hit me with his tail, but at least he’d quiet down.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Why he does it, I don’t know. Maybe he likes the company. Maybe he just wants to annoy me. At the end of the day, I won’t say I haven’t gotten anything from the arrangement. For one, my dreams have been, well, not good, but they’ve definitely not gotten any worse.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>For one thing, I’m still just dreaming of that lake. I'm floating at the edge of it now, watching the surface. It looks like liquid smoke. It’s mesmerising in a way, but I always wake up before I see it. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>It’s coming back to me, despite how much I want to pretend it isn’t. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I’m remembering what I saw down there.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>---</em>
</p><p>
  <em>June 17th 2016</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Of course after saying he's been coming by everyday, the mer disappears. It happened a few days back; he went out to swim and then just didn't come back that night. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>He's back now, though. He looks fine, if a little tired, so I figure he just wanted some space. Can't blame him for that.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p>
  <br/>
  <em>June 20th 2016</em>
</p><p>
  
  <br/>
  <em>Well, I knew it would happen eventually. I need to get supplies. I’m out of pretty much everything, and whilst I could go to Manton, I know I need to see what things are like at Cottonwood. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I just need to know everything's going okay there, and then I can retreat to my island for another month.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Wish me luck.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>---</em>
</p><p> </p><p>There was a complication Clark hadn’t foreseen whilst planning his trip to Cottonwood.</p><p> </p><p>His boat had barely left the shallows before he realised he had a stalker. He knew the mer was following his boat, trailing along just underneath it, and ordinarily Clark wouldn’t mind. The mer would join him whilst he fished and then come back to the island with him come evening, but this time, things were different. Clark couldn’t risk him swimming near Cottonwood given what had happened last time. So, he stopped his boat the moment he felt his presence, and came out onto the platform, yelling to the mer when he saw him poke out from the water. “No. Stay. <em>Here.</em> Don’t follow me.”</p><p> </p><p>The mer however, only screeched in response, coming up close to the platform and slapping his fists on the wood. Clark crouched down, and took those hands in his, holding them gently. “Stay here.” He repeated, softly this time. “It’s too dangerous for you to come with me, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>The mer frowned, and bared his teeth and Clark only rolled his eyes. He set the mers hands down into the water, and stood up. “Yeah, yeah, you’re a big scary mer, but there are bad men where I’m going, so unless you want to end up in a net again, you will stay here.”</p><p> </p><p>That at least seemed to have the intended effect, as the mer slowly slid into the water, grumbling. Clark pointed to the island, and this time the mer didn’t screech, simply slipping under the waves, and swimming away. Clark watched him until he was back underneath the jetty and only then did he continue on his way to Cottonwood. </p><p> </p><p>He still made sure the mer didn’t try to resume his stalking from afar but from what Clark could tell; he was still at the island. It did however remind him of something he’d noticed about the mer a few days prior. </p><p> </p><p>Namely, his heart beat.</p><p> </p><p>Clark only noticed it when they had been out fishing. The mer was above water with him, but as Clark was retrieving another fishing pole, he slipped and bumped one of the railings on the platform. A bolt came off and bounced across the wood before falling into the water with a faint splash. Clark let out a sigh and made a mental reminder to fix it when he got home, but the mer paused his swimming and quickly dove down, following the bolt. Clark watched him through the water and it was then that he heard the shift. His heartbeat slowed considerably, but there was also a change in tone that would have caused Clark to think it was a completely different person under normal circumstances. Humans couldn’t exactly change their heartbeats, so he’d never faced this issue before when listening to one and as such he found himself transfixed on the sound. It was familiar to him, but he couldn’t explain why. </p><p> </p><p>Clark watched the mer as he went deeper and deeper, but after only a few moments, he stopped abruptly. The mer managed to catch the bolt early in its descent, and was soon back on the surface, setting the metal onto the platform with a triumphant grin. Clark still listened to his heart and now that it was back above, heard the same familiar thudding he was growing used to. But there was more to it than that. He couldn’t place why, but the mer felt different now. As he stared at his hands, he could have sworn the scales there looked darker, as did his eyes. Clark pushed those thoughts away for now, and crouched down.  “Thank you.” He murmured before taking the bolt from the floor. The mer chirped, his grin growing, before diving back into the water and resuming his laps.</p><p> </p><p>A few minutes later Clark looked at the mer, seeing that same shade of blue he knew. It was then that he told himself that the change he saw was just his mind playing tricks on him, as it often liked to do.</p><p> </p><p>But that day did teach him something. Now, he knew to listen out for two different tones when keeping tabs on the mer, and as he stepped off at Cottonwood, he could safely say he heard neither.  </p><p> </p><p>He was however more focused on who else was in the marina with him.</p><p> </p><p>“Clark!” Came Elijah’s voice as he approached, his pace brisk. “What a wonderful coincidence!”</p><p> </p><p>At the voice alone, Clark found himself rooted firmly in place. He was sure if that wasn’t the case, he would have made a run for it already, but as it stood he had indeed not moved an inch by the time Elijah stopped in front of him. “Hi Doc.” Clark let out, his eyes darting around the marina, first to the archway, then to a boat he didn’t recognize. It must have been Elijah’s and that theory was confirmed when he peered through the hull and noticed the large black bag within. He stopped himself from looking through it. “What brings you here?” He asked, trying his best to sound normal.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, right.” Elijah said, gesturing towards his boat. “Another mer turned up. Thankfully, I was able to pick this one up before it disappeared.” He said with a wink. “Though, it wasn’t a black fin, I thought I’d make the trip Cottonwood on this occasion, as I won’t lie, my visit had something to do with you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Did it, now?” Clark asked, his stare still fixated on the bag within the boat.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, you see, when I got back to my lab upon our last meeting, I sent a fax through to my contact about why I didn’t show. I told him I bumped into you at Sacramento and you mentioned the mer was no longer there, so I needn't bother coming, and upon mention of your name, he revealed to me that it was <em>you</em> that took the black fin from him on that fateful day. Well, when I heard that I was positively elated! I was worried some fisherman without any sense took the mer without any idea as to its value, but you, you I know are a man with sense, so I decided to get my affairs in order, and once I had lo and behold my contact had found another mer here, so I thought I’d kill two birds with one stone; I'd come collect the mer he’d found, and learn from the locals as to which island you reside. I’d hoped to pay you a visit and discuss matters, but lo! Here you are, as though by fate!” His grin grew if that were possible. “Which leads me to my next question…”</p><p> </p><p>“He’s not for sale.” Clark blurted, and at Elijah’s surprise he went on. “The mer, i’m not selling him.”</p><p> </p><p>“Right.” Elijah said, and despite how much he tried to hide it, Clark could see the disappointment simmering just below that calm exterior. “Of course, I understand you must be rather fond of him. My contact mentioned you were… <em>involved</em> with the mer.”</p><p> </p><p><em>Involved</em>, Clark fought the urge to roll his eyes. Instead he shook his head. “It’s not like that, we’re just, sort of…” he winced as a whole slew of confusing thoughts came to mind. “I don’t know, but the point is, there is no amount of money you could offer me to give him to you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Clark, I admire your conviction, but unlike some breeds, black fins are extremely hostile. If he’s not tried to attack you yet, he's most likely biding his time. They’re ambush predators, you see, they wait and wait, and just when the moment is right…” he pressed his lips together. “They pounce.”</p><p> </p><p><strike><em>Oh, look, a person speaking sense. Perhaps you should listen to them, or will you just tell them to fuck off like you did Diana?</em></strike> Clark shook his head, ignoring the voice, despite the doubt quickly settling on his shoulders. “This ones different, he’s… not <em>not</em> hostile. At least, he isn't with me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Then let me examine him!” Elijah pleaded, coming forward. “If you say this black fin is an anomaly, let me see for myself. You needn't give him to me, but I will pay you whatever amount you desire simply for the opportunity to <em>look</em> at him.” </p><p> </p><p>Clark wasn’t convinced, but he still raised a brow. “Just to look?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes!” Elijah blurted. “Do you know how rare of an opportunity this is? To study a pure black fin, I'd finally be able to confirm my theories, I'd be able to study their bone structure, their scales, oh the possibilities…” Elijah trailed off, and when he looked up to Clark, there were tears in his eyes. “My whole life, I’ve dedicated myself to the study of deep sea mers, and I have yet to see a pure one, alive, in person. Half breeds, or dead mers are what all my research is based on. One that is alive, is worth more than its weight in gold to me.”</p><p> </p><p>The grimace Clark felt pulling across his face was one that refused to leave even when he knew he should probably tone it down lest offend the Doctor. In the end he let out a sigh, shaking his head. “Look Doc, I appreciate you’re passionate, but this mer isn’t a science project.” </p><p> </p><p>“I apologize.” Elijah said, genuine remorse on his face. “I know I can sometimes sound ‘clinical’ when I discuss mers, but I promise you it only comes from a place of adoration. You see, today's mers are the branches of their phylogenetic tree, and the abyssal fins are the roots. To see a pure blooded black fin, would be akin to seeing a living homo erectus; the theoretically ‘link’ between the mers of the deep and the mers above. Oh, what I would be able to learn from just--”</p><p> </p><p>Clark held up his hand. “Look, you keep saying that word, but how do you know my one’s ‘pure’? He could be a ‘half breed’ too for all you know.”</p><p> </p><p>Elijah didn’t even pause. “Why, his colouring. Bare in mind I am speaking purely based upon what my contact has told me about the mer, but the dark blue scaling on the hands and ears is an indicator of a pure blooded mer, if the ears and hands are humanoid, well…” Elijah frowned. “That means the blood has been tainted.</p><p> </p><p>Clark grimaced. “Right.”</p><p> </p><p>“Anyway, that’s beside the point.” Elijah turned that pitiful stare on him once more, as he brought his hands together as though in prayer. “I will pay you good money simply to see your mer in the flesh. All you need do is bring him to my lab, i’ll run a few tests, give you your money and then you are both free to leave.” </p><p> </p><p>Clark wanted to say no, but felt Elijah wasn’t a man to take no easily, especially with something like this. “I'll think about it.” He settled on, and fought back the urge to recoil when Elijah jumped to him, his hands settling on his shoulders with a fierce grip.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, of course!” He chimed. “Take as long as you need to think about it, and when you are ready simply call me. You still have my number don’t you?” He let go and reached into his front pocket and pulled out a small business card. “If you don’t, my phone number is on there, as well as my coordinates. Feel free to drop by any time.” He cleared his throat, turning to his boat. “Now, I better head off, the mer is already a few days old, and I don’t want to let decomposition take an ever greater hold. It was good to see you Clark. Take care.” </p><p> </p><p>As he walked away, Clark couldn't help it. He called out. “Hey, Doc!” When Elijah stopped, Clark jerked his head to the boat. “The mer in there. Is is male or female?”</p><p> </p><p>Elijah paused, his head tilting for a moment. “Male, why do you ask?”</p><p> </p><p>Clark let out a sigh of relief, that quickly morphed into a cough at Elijah’s curious stare. “Was just curious. Uh, you have a good day, Doc.” He mumbled, before making his way out of the marina.</p><p> </p><p>Thankfully, he managed to get to Lucy’s without any other interruptions. He kept an eye out for Antonio but at no point did the man make an appearance, and for that small mercy Clark couldn’t express how grateful he was. </p><p> </p><p>He also spotted Marcos through the windows of the mechanics as he walked past, but with Salvator right there beside him, Clark kept his head down and continued walking. Hoping neither spotted him.</p><p> </p><p>The bell chimed as he stepped through the door to the store, and at the sound Lucy’s eyes pulled away from the book she was reading. Clark sent her a smile. “Hey there, Luce.”</p><p> </p><p>“Clark!” She said with a grin, setting her book down. “I was just thinking I hadn’t seen you in a while. How you been?”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, all things considered.” He said, taking a look at the shelves. He picked up a basket and started putting a few items in as he spoke. “How about you? Have things been okay here?”</p><p> </p><p>“Same old same old.” She said with a bob of the head. “Oh, don’t know if you heard, but they found a buyer for Tom’s ranch. The guy didn’t want to raise cattle though, so they had a big cull a few days back. Got plenty of beef if you’re interested.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh?” Clark asked, quickly making his way down the aisle to the chillers at the end. Inside were bundles of meat wrapped in wax paper, and Clark quickly threw a few into his basket. “What's the guy gonna do with the land, then?”</p><p> </p><p>“He’s a developer. Said he’s going to use the land for ‘up market’ homes, as apparently ‘this land is ripe for premium real estate.’” Lucy rolled her eyes. “It’s right next to the beach, and Porter’s house is the only other one nearby, so I suppose I see his point. There might be some rich folk out there who wanna come and live here, but he better hope that’s the case because that’s who his market is going to be. He told me the amount he thinks the houses will sell for when done and I laughed at him.”</p><p> </p><p>Clark put a few more bundles of meat in his basket for good measure, and then picked up a few more items before heading to the counter. “That bad, huh?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, you have no idea.” She huffed, ringing up his supplies. “All of us on the island, <em>combined</em>, don’t have enough to buy one of the houses he’s planning.” She let out a sigh. “But it’s his money, if he thinks Cottonwood has property potential, I suppose we should be thankful that there is someone wanting to do something with the land rather than it just sit there.” </p><p> </p><p>“No one here wanted to take it on?”</p><p> </p><p>“Colin had his eye on it, but then Walter-- the developer-- out bid him at the auction. Colin was steamed afterward, but hey, he should have known that that amount of land was going to cost a pretty penny, and that someone out there might have their eye on it, too.” She shrugged her shoulders.</p><p> </p><p>Clark took those words in and felt himself frown. “Colin wanted the land?”</p><p> </p><p>“Big time.” Lucy said. “Ever since he lost his boat, he’s been at a loss for what to do with himself. Antonio and Steve still take him along when they pick up our Redding orders, but given he’s not actually transporting anything himself anymore, he’s not making as much as he used to as the other two are taking a bigger cut for taking on more work.” </p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t know he knew anything about ranching.” Clark said, reaching for his wallet. Speaking from experience, ranching was a rare trade to come by. Most islanders preferred to use their land for crops or smaller animals like chickens or goats. The amount of land required to keep cattle was generally reserved for larger islands that wouldn’t miss the land. In fact, the only reason his family raised them in Smallville was because that’s what his Pa’s dad did, and that was what his dad did, too. It was all his family knew, so the idea of turning the land to other uses never crossed their minds.</p><p> </p><p>“Who, Colin?” Lucy shook her head. “Naw, I don’t think he’d have kept the land for ranching, either. I know him, and chances are he was just trying to make some quick cash. Get the land, and then divvy it up and sell it to anyone who’d buy it. Which is why I find it funny he’s pissed about what Walter’s doing. At the end of the day, they had the same idea, just Walter had more money to throw around to realise it.”</p><p> </p><p>Clark grew quiet as he took out a few notes, and slid them across the counter. He found himself focusing on what Lucy had said, and more specifically what it meant.</p><p> </p><p>Lucy reached for the money, before shaking her head with a smile. “Right, sorry, here I am prattling on and on about all this stuff that don’t matter… I’ll just get your receipt, Clark.”</p><p> </p><p>“What? No.” Clark shook his head quickly. “It’s not like that, Luce. I was just thinking about what you were saying, is all.”</p><p> </p><p>“Really? Didn’t think it was that interesting.” Lucy shrugged, setting his change on the counter, along with a hastily written receipt.</p><p> </p><p>“To me it is.” Clark said, before taking his change. </p><p> </p><p>“That’s fair enough.” Lucy said. “When you’re here all the time, things like this just seem par for the course and stop being interesting.”</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe that’s why i'm interested. I’m not here all the time.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s a point.” Lucy said. “You know you’re always welcome, right? After last time, I was worried Antonio scared you off for good.” </p><p> </p><p>“Antonio doesn’t scare me.” He said easily.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, if that's the case.” She narrowed her eyes, bringing her hand up to point at his face. “You make sure to visit more. I worry about you out there all alone.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not alone.” Clark said before he could stop himself, at Lucy’s raised brow he cleared his throat, looking away. “I mean, I--”</p><p> </p><p>Lucy however just held up her hand and sighed. “Clark, I know you have a mer, you know you have a mer, heck, the whole island knows you have a mer. You ain’t slick, so quit it.”</p><p> </p><p>Clark opened his mouth to argue, but in the end he didn’t. His mouth snapped closed. “Alright.”</p><p> </p><p>“And speaking of mers...” Lucy said, leaning forward. She gave a quick look around the store and then spoke, her voice just above a whisper. “I wanted to thank you for what you did for Tom’s.”</p><p> </p><p>“How do you know it was me?” Clark asked, raising a brow.</p><p> </p><p>“Please, who else would it be.” She rolled her eyes. “I know that weird scientist comes by and collects them from time to time, but I had a feeling this time it was you.”</p><p> </p><p><br/>“Right.” Clark looked at her, as he let a smile touch his lips. “Was Antonio pissed?”</p><p> </p><p>Lucy laughed. “Like you would not believe. I think he knows it was you, too, but, at the end of the day; what's he got to be mad about? Not like he lost anything important, just his ‘art piece.’” </p><p> </p><p>Clark wanted to add that he did in fact lose something else with the disappearance of Elyss, but given the secrecy between him and Elijah in their faxes, Clark doubted anyone knew he was being paid for the bodies. He wondered what they’d think if that was the case, but given Lucy had to deal with Antonio to get her shipments, he didn’t want to drive a wedge where it wasn’t required, so he shrugged his shoulders. “That’s true, but given he already hates me, I had hoped for at least a little anonymity.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, you got it in a way. There’s no actual proof that it was you. People just think it, and you know how rumours are. One person says something and suddenly that's God's truth even if it isn’t.” She made a face. “Well, in this case it is, but you know what I mean.” </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I do.” Clark nodded. Honestly, this was the best case scenario. He didn’t want anything to get back to Marcos or Porter, so if he needed to be the sole barer or blame, so be it. </p><p> </p><p>There was a chime at the door, and Clark turned to it. A woman walked in and he quickly turned back to Lucy. “I better get going. Nice chatting, Luce.”</p><p> </p><p>“You too, Clark. Remember what I said. Don’t be a stranger.”</p><p> </p><p>He left soon after, but unlike his trip to Lucy’s, the journey back did get interrupted.</p><p> </p><p>He was passing the mechanics once more, but this time when he peeked in Marcos spotted him this time. Before he had a chance to put his head down and walk away, Marcos’ eyes blew wide, and Clark heard the rushed conversation from within. </p><p> </p><p>“Dad, I think I heard Lindo in the trash cans again.”</p><p> </p><p>He heard Salvador sigh. “Ay dios mio… Well, go get him then. Be quick.”</p><p> </p><p>Marcos all but ran from the shop and with a quick jerk of the head aimed Clark’s way, he made his way into the narrow alleyway beside the shop. Clark checked around the place, and when the coast was clear, he quickly followed suit.</p><p> </p><p>He looked frazzled when he got to him, and before Clark could even get a word out, Marcos came up close to him, his hands resting on his shoulders, gripping the fabric there. “Hey, weird question have you seen my pocket knife?”</p><p> </p><p>Clark pressed his lips together. “I can't say that I have, no.”</p><p> </p><p>Marcos’ eyes grew wider if that were possible. “Are you sure? It’s not on your boat or anything?”</p><p> </p><p>“If I'd seen it Marcos, I would tell you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, okay then.” Marcos took a shaky breath. “Sorry, just need a moment to process that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Right.” Clark pursed his lips. “Wanna tell me why?”</p><p> </p><p>Marcos groaned, pushing himself away from Clark and beginning to pace to and fro. “When I was cutting the mer down, I dropped my pocket knife, right? I thought I picked it up, but no, I must have missed it, and when I realised and went back the next morning, it wasn’t there anymore.” He turned to Clark, his eyes wide. “I thought at first I must have left it on your boat or something, but as you’ve just confirmed; it wasn’t there. Which means someone found it, which means, someone knows I was there that night, which means--”</p><p> </p><p>“Whoa, whoa…” Clark interrupted, sensing Marcos was one sentence away from a full breakdown. “Look, I get you're worried, but why? I figured everyone here thought it was me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, they do.'' Marcos said, swiping his hair back and wincing. “But still, someone has my knife, someone knows I was there that night and before you say it, they’ll know it’s mine 'cause it has my name etched in the side. My dad got it for me for my birthday...”</p><p> </p><p>Clark grimaced. “Of course it does.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey!” Marcos snapped. “Don't give me attitude. This wouldn't have even happened if you didn't scare me!”</p><p> </p><p>With a sigh, Clark came forward with the same care and speed as he would approach a wounded rabbit. “Right, and for that i’m sorry, truly, but like I said, if anyone asks about it, it was me who did it, alright? I acted alone and you weren’t there.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah…” Marcos looked down at the floor. “I told myself something like that for the past month, but still, seeing you just reminded me and it was like--” he shivered. “I managed to forget how scared I was, but then it all came flooding back the second I saw you and it was like, I couldn’t breath. I kept thinking about my dad finding out; what he’d say, and I just… Panicked.” He turned to him then, his eyes full of worry. “Do you know what that’s like?”</p><p> </p><p>Clark didn’t blink. “Yes.”</p><p> </p><p>Marcos gave him a smile. “Right, sorry. I shouldn’t even be bothering you with this but I just felt like I had to tell you.”</p><p> </p><p>“I get it.” Clark said, turning his head a fraction to the wall beside them. He saw Salvator get up from his seat, grumbling. “But just remember what I said. I acted alone, you don’t know anything, and if your knife shows up, you don’t know how it got on the dock.” When Salvator started approaching the doorway, Clark spoke. “You better get back, you’re dads looking for you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Shit!” Marcos said, wiping his face with his shirt. “I’m really sorry about all this, Clark. I’ll see you when I see you.” </p><p> </p><p>“See you.” Clark repeated, stepping aside as Marcos barreled past him. Once he was at the front of the store, stopping Salvator from coming around the corner, Clark heard the pair talk to one another before stepping back inside. When Clark was sure Salvator wouldn’t spot him, he made his way to his boat. </p><p> </p><p>When he got back to the island, he saw the mer poke his head up from the water. He must have been dozing under the jetty and upon hearing Clark’s boat, woke up. Clark carried his shopping inside, and as he was setting things away he heard the mer shimmying across the sand towards his home. He sat in the doorway watching him, and when Clark picked up one of the packages wrapped in wax paper, he trilled. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, this?” Clark asked playfully. “You wanna know what this is?” He sat on the floor, and the mer came further inside until he was right in front of Clark, his nose twitching as the wax paper was slowly removed.</p><p> </p><p>When the slab of beef came into view, the mer’s eyes blew wide and he lunged for it. Clark pulled it up and away, ignoring the screeches from the mer as it scrambled for it. “Hey hey, be patient. I ain’t even cooked yet.”</p><p> </p><p>More screams were all he got in response to that, and Clark rolled his eyes. “If you want this, I need you to promise me something.”</p><p> </p><p>The mer grew quiet, and despite the difficulty in communication, Clark figured he caught the gist of what he’d said, and hopefully all of what he was about to say. “Look, I know we have a weird…<em>Relationship</em>.” He made a face at the word and shook his head. "What i'm trying to say is, I don't want to see you get hurt again, and islands like Cottonwood are dangerous, okay? There are people on there that might hurt you, so I want you to promise me you won’t go there.”</p><p> </p><p>The mer concentrated as he spoke, and after Clark finished speaking, he saw it make a face, a quiet grumble coming from its throat as though ready to disagree. “I mean it.” Clark said, slower this time. “There are bad men there. The ones that caught you and hurt you before. If you swim near there, they might catch you and--” Clark thought to Elijah, to intensity in his stare as he had spoken of mers and grimaced. “The point is, you are worth a lot to some people, and because of that, you need to be careful. So promise me you’ll be careful, and promise me you won’t try to follow me when I go there anymore.”</p><p> </p><p>It took some time, but eventually Clark saw the mer nod. It was a very subtle gesture, accompanied with a whole host of grumbles, but the mer nodded and then brought out his hand to Clark. At first he thought he was after the meat, but when Clark tried to offer it, he shook his head, reaching for Clark’s free hand. </p><p> </p><p>He took a hold of it, and squeezed it ever so slightly before letting go. Nodding again. Clark swallowed and before his mind bombarded him with any more confusing thoughts, he stood up and cleared his throat. “Okay, then. Well with that settled, let's cook you some steak.”</p><p> </p><p>Due to the plethora of meat available, Clark was able to cook himself a steak this time, and as he sat down and began eating, he watched the mer devour his. </p><p> </p><p>Clark should have expected it, but he still laughed all the same when the mer finished his steak and then came to him, pouting as he tried to reach for the half eaten one on his own plate. </p><p> </p><p>In the end, the beef didn't last nearly as long as Clark thought it would, with the other steaks hitting the pan before nightfall. It was worth it, though. As seeing the mer radiate contentment as he dozed in his tub, had Clark too, feeling that same joy. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Mystery, intrigue, steak; the hallmarks of any good chapter.</p><p>I had a lot of fun with this one! I love exploring Blue and Clark's weird lil relationship and also expanding on all the other folks in the story.</p><p>Anyway, as always, lemme know what you thought! Your comments and theories are everything to me, and honestly, I know it sounds bad, but I've only been writing as much as I have been recently to make sure you guys get your weekly dose of Salinity and I can get that sweet sweet serotonin from your comments =w=</p><p>I will catch you all next time! Take care all! :D x</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Whats this??? Another update?? So soon after the last one??</p><p>Well, that's cause today is my birthday! And to celebrate I wanted to post a update! I hope you all enjoy this chapter :D</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> June 22nd 2016 </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I really shouldn’t have gotten the mer onto beef. Now, everytime we eat, without fail, he asks for it. </em>
</p><p><em><br/>
</em> <em> How does he ask for it, you might ask? The little shit kept my plate; the one he threw into the water. He must have found it after throwing it and now he keeps it under the jetty, and anytime I try and give him fish, he will scoot his ass outside, get the plate, come back in and tap it like an impatient customer at a restaurant.  </em></p><p> </p><p><strike><em> I would be pissed if it wasn’t actually sort of cute. </em></strike> <em> I need to try and get him to start liking some other stuff, ‘cause if I keep buying beef at the rate he eats it, I’m going to go broke. </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em> --- </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> June 29th 2016 </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Alright, so I tried to feed it something else. Figured i’d try chicken cause that’s pretty neutral. Went to Manton to get it as they have a pretty big chicken farm there and their prices for it weren't too bad. They also had beef, but fuck me if i’m paying those prices. Manton apparently charges the monetary equivalent of a first born child for their beef. I assume because it was blessed by God himself, or some shit. </em>
</p><p><em><br/>
</em> <em> Anyway, got back, cooked it, gave it to the mer, no problem, he ate it all. </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Then he wanted more. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> And then I realised I am a fucking idiot ‘cause I just repeated the same fucking bullshit problem I had instead of fixing it. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Note to self: Next time, get him to like something you <span class="u">don’t</span> need to pay for. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ---  </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <em> July 2nd 2016 </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I don’t even know where to start with today. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> --- </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>There had been a storm the night before.</p><p> </p><p>Clark felt it brewing in the air even before the wind started. Could see the clouds swirling above as the waves start to roll in. Eventually the rain began and it not so much poured as whipped, swiping his face like blades to the point he could hardly see. Ordinarily he’d go inside before it got to that, hunker down in bed and ride out the weather with a good book, but he couldn’t do that when he knew the mer was still out there.</p><p> </p><p>He tried to call out to him, but his voice was lost in the wind almost immediately. He began to circle the island, walking along the shore and shouting out to the water in the hopes the mer would somehow hear him. It was as he looped the place for the fourth time, now drenched to the point he may as well be <em> in </em> the water, that the sharp cracks of thunder began.</p><p> </p><p>But he heard it then, in and amongst the rumbles from the sky.</p><p> </p><p>Screeching.</p><p> </p><p>He all ran along the shore, ignoring the rain blinding him, the sand swallowing his feet. He kept going until the screeches grew louder, and only then did he stop and try to squint through the rain. He saw the mer, scrambling in the water as the forceful waves kept pulling him back in. A rip tide and a powerful one if the way the mer struggled to move through it was anything to go by.  Clark however didn’t have such troubles, wading up to his thighs in water and holding himself steady as the mer managed to inch his way closer. Clark held out his hand, yelling through the overwhelming sound. “Take it, I got you!”</p><p> </p><p>The mer was pulled back once more in the current, but as the wave came crashing forward, he stretched out, his hand reaching for Clark. The moment Clark had it, he refused to let go, even as the swell of water tried to suck them both in. He tugged the mer from the water, scooping him into his arms and holding him tightly as he waded back to shore.</p><p> </p><p>Even with the mer now in his arms, he still chose to run. He looked to the sky as he did, hoping they could beat the next snap of thunder, but almost in the same moment he thought it, Clark heard it overhead, and barely managed to turn his head in time to see the trees beside them get struck. He had no time to assess the damage, and kept moving, only stopping when they were both inside, the mer tucked safely in his tub and Clark splayed out on the floor beside him, panting.   </p><p> </p><p>Despite the walls around them, the sound of rain and wind was omnipresent, and Clark feared at any moment a gust or thunder would strike them. As the minutes ticked by though, his home remained untouched, and eventually Clark sat up, turning to the mer. He was safe. They both were.</p><p> </p><p>When Clark looked at him, the mer chirped, reaching out and wiggling his fingers. Clark didn't know what he wanted, and when he tried to offer his hand, the mer shook his head, moving his hand out, closer to Clark’s face instead. Clark held still and when he felt one of those claws run against his forehead, swiping away the hair there he let out a breath, which turned into a small huff of laughter. “Thank you.” He muttered.</p><p> </p><p>The mer trilled, maneuvering in the tub until he could bring his other hand to Clark’s face as well. He gently scraped Clark’s hair back from his face, and once that was done, didn't move them away. He kept his hands there, on either side of jaw.</p><p> </p><p>Clark swallowed, having no choice but to look back at the mer, at those eyes. He could have sworn he didn't feel himself moving closer, yet the mers face slowly filling his vision made him realise he must have been. Before he knew it, he could feel the small puffs of breath against his lips, and for some reason, rather than move away, he parted his mouth, moving forward those remaining few inches.</p><p> </p><p>Then the thunder struck again.</p><p> </p><p>Clark jolted back, and in that moment came to the realisation of where he was and more importantly what had very nearly happened. He jumped up onto his feet and being that he couldn't go outside given the rain, nor stay in place given the mer, jumped into bed and rolled the blanket over himself, a jumble of words spilling from his mouth that he hoped would help excuse him. As he lay there, he wondered if he stayed still for long enough whatever went through his mind to cause that lapse of judgment would go. </p><p> </p><p>Underneath his blanket fort, Clark watched the mer. At first he looked annoyed, his mouth opening as though ready to start screeching, but as the minutes ticked by, no sound came, instead he seemed to sigh and slip down into the water, until his gills and mouth were underneath. Only then did he close his eyes and fall asleep, and presumably, Clark was not that long behind as the next thing he knew it was morning.</p><p> </p><p>The sun came in through the window, hitting him square in the eye and he got up and rubbed his face. He looked around blearily as the film of sleep over his eyes slowly abated, and it was then that he realised that the mer was no longer in his tub.</p><p> </p><p>The door was slightly ajar and Clark frowned at it. Had it been the storm that knocked it open, or did the mer do it himself? After staring at the wood for longer than necessary, Clark got up, and slowly made his way over to it, and once there, pushed it fully open.</p><p> </p><p>As he looked outside, Clark thought he was still sleeping</p><p> </p><p>When he’d opened the door, something was blocking a good portion of the view. Something dark and unmoving. He had no idea what he was looking at, and almost put it up to his mind messing with him again, but no, soon the smell hit him, and once his eyes and nose were on board with what was before him definitely being in the realm of reality, he approached it wearily.</p><p> </p><p><br/>
It was a sperm whale.</p><p> </p><p>During the storm, as the waves rolled in and the thunder cracked, it must have ended up here, dead, or, at least that's what he first thought.</p><p> </p><p>Then he heard the barest hint of a heart beat coming from within.</p><p> </p><p><br/>
Clark’s eyes blew wide as he stepped outside and approached the body. It wasn't moving, and looking at its bleek eyes, he realised his initial hypothesis was indeed correct, and yet, he could still hear it.</p><p> </p><p>It was as he rounded the mass that he saw a jagged slit down its belly. He frowned at it and against his better judgement, brought his hand out to graze against the torn skin, the area where he heard the heartbeat emanate from.</p><p> </p><p>Then he promptly had a heart attack as the mer stuck his head out.</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Jesus! </em>” Clark yelped as he fell back into the sand, he stared up at the mer, covered in blood and looking alarmingly at ease for having emerged from the belly of a dead whale. His head quirked to the side as he regarded Clark before chirping and wiggling back inside.</p><p> </p><p>“What,<em> no-- </em>” Clark scrambled up and went back to the opening. He stood there waiting for the mer to reemerge and when he did not, Clark gathered up what little he resolved he had this early in the morning, and using both hands, pulled apart the opening and tried to peek in through the mass of intestines. “Hey. Get your ass out here, or I swear to God I will drag you out myself.” </p><p> </p><p>He could hear movement from within, and Clark shuddered at the slippery sounds. Eventually he saw a face poking out once more. He was chewing now, his mouth full and Clark fought back a grimace. “Get out of there, you gremlin.” He slapped the skin of the whale, above where the mer poked out. “Come on, get. You can't stay in there.” </p><p> </p><p>But the mer wasn’t having any of it, he made a low series of calls and then dove back into the body. Clark wanted to say he expected the mer to listen to him, but really, he knew from the minute the little gremlin appeared from within that he was going to have to drag him out. “Alright, it's gonna be like that, huh?” Clark rolled up his sleeves, but when faced with the sheer size of the whale, opted to just take off his shirt instead. “I’ve helped birth calves, you ass. Getting you out ain’t no different.”</p><p> </p><p>Clark pulled back the opening, and reached in. Thankfully the mer wasn’t in too deep, apparently having not eaten that far ahead yet. Clark swallowed back the vomit threatening to come up as he thought about what he was doing, and surprisingly, imaging he was back in Smallville helped considerably. This wasn’t a whale, it was a cow, and it wasn’t a gremlin he was trying to pull out, it was a calve. If he closed his eyes, he could swear he heard his father’s voice.<em> ‘Alright, Clark. You just wanna find the hooves and--’  </em></p><p> </p><p>Clark opened his eyes and smiled. “Gotcha.”</p><p> </p><p><br/>
He tugged hard and firm and with a wet plop the mer fell onto the sand. He was still holding onto a bit of intestine, and upon the interruption gave an indignant yelp, hissing at Clark when he tried to make him let go of the organ. “You don’t need to be eating on this, let go.” Clark tried to get it to let go again, but this time the mer turned around, curling into the sand where the furious sounds of chewing and swallowing resumed. “Alright, be like that…'' Clark looked down at the mers back, his eyes trailing along the sleek lines of muscle, before resting on the arches of his hips. Clark stared at that part of him for longer than necessary, but eventually remembered what he was actually trying to do here.</p><p> </p><p>He rested his hands on the mer's hips for a moment, before slipping his arms around his waist and in a quick burst of movement, lifted him up.</p><p> </p><p>The mer let out what could only be described as a squawk as Clark carried him, inelegantly, inside his shack. In the movement, he let go of what he had been eating and began to swipe at Clark, and only when that failed, did the screaming start. </p><p> </p><p>Clark ignored it and set him inside the cabin before running back out and slamming the door. He knew the mer was already climbing out of the tub to get back outside, so with no other thought in mind other than to get rid of the eyesore on his beach, he went to the whale, gripping its tail and flung it back out into the sea.</p><p> </p><p>By the time the mer was scraping at the door, the beach was once again as it should be and Clark walked back to the cabin, opening the door with a faint smile.</p><p> </p><p>The mer wiggled out, stopping abruptly in the doorway as his eyes went to the space the whale had been. He pointed there, chirping, and Clark swallowed a laugh at the apparent confusion on his face. “It musta swam off.” Clark said evenly, shrugging a shoulder. The mer chirped and continued to make his way to the where the whale had been, and when he confirmed with both all his senses that the whale was definitely no longer there, he slammed his hands into the sand and screeched at Clark, baring his teeth.<br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, don't give me that.” Clark said, rolling his eyes. “What? Did you want me to keep it here until you finished it? A whole ass rotting whale carcass?”</p><p> </p><p>The mer squinted before nodding slowly.</p><p> </p><p>Clark blew a raspberry. “I know you’re a little greedy guts but I think an entire whale is too much, even for you.”</p><p> </p><p>The mer opened his mouth, presumably to retort, but simply batted his hand Clark’s way before falling onto his rear and crossing his arms. His pout back, and bigger than ever. </p><p> </p><p><br/>
“Oh, come on.” Clark said, coming up to him and crouching down. “You had your fill, didn't you?” The mer still wasn’t looking at him, and Clark huffed, bringing his hand out to tap the mers ear until those bright eyes came back to him. “What if I cooked something nice to make it up to you?”</p><p> </p><p>The mers face perked up at that, but Clark quickly shook his head. “Not steak, I don't have any left. You ate it all, remember?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
The pout returned. </p><p> </p><p>Rolling his eyes, Clark got up. “Alright, be like that, but whilst you're moping you can at least clean yourself. You look like the inside of a jelly donut.” Clark pointed to the water and when the mer didn't move, Clark clapped his hands. “Go on, in the water and wash off.”<br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>The mer's eyes narrowed as he pointed at Clark, more specifically at his arms and torso which were in a similar stare. Clark looked down at himself and nodded, reminding himself to breath from his mouth not his nose. “Yeah yeah, I’ll clean myself too, but you go in the sea.”</p><p> </p><p>But the mer didn’t do that, instead he reached for Clark’s pant leg and tugged on it as he wiggled his way towards where the water lapped against the shore. Clark wanted to pull his leg free, but in the end didn't, he opted to humour the mer, getting all the way to the lapping water and only then stopping once it touched his feet. “Alright, i'm here. Now are you gonna go wash?”</p><p> </p><p>The mer pointed at the water, then at Clark, and then nodded. Clark shook his head. “No, i'm not getting into the water.” </p><p> </p><p>More nodding, and more chirping. He tugged on his pant leg even harder. Clark swallowed thickly, stepping back. “No, i'm not going into the water.” He looked away, ignoring the sudden ache in his stomach. “Now, go wash.” When the mer didn't move he ground his teeth. “<em> Now. </em>” </p><p> </p><p>He didn't wait to see if the mer moved before walking away. He went around his cabin, going to the small water collection area he had set up around the back and of course after the storm last night, he had plenty of water to use. He picked up one of the tubs and walked further still. There was a break in the trees where he usually washed himself, and once there he set down the tub and peeked at the mer. He was rolling around in the shallows now and once Clark was sure of that, he stripped down fully, pulling his pants down and kicking them off to the side.  </p><p> </p><p>The rain water from last night had his hair clean, if a tad greasy, so he mostly worked the water over his arms and chest, and once he was sure he’d gotten the larger chunks and smeers off of whale guts off, he lifted the tub and dumped it over his head, letting the water flow all the way down his body. </p><p> </p><p>He stood there for a moment, letting the water trickle down as the breeze touched him, and with his eyes still closed he stepped forward slightly, letting his head rest against the bark of the tree as he thought. </p><p> </p><p>He knew he had to get some things straight in his mind, and this moment of solitude seemed the best time to do it. With the mer now taking up a larger portion of his life, things like last night were bound to happen. He had already resigned himself to dealing with the mer, but he hadn’t really come to terms with all the other feelings that brought along with it. The more time they spent together, the more Clark found himself thinking about him in quiet moments, like this.</p><p> </p><p>He looked down at himself, more specifically at a part of his body that he thought had become obsolete long ago. His penis was however still very much a part of his body, and as such, as his mind swirled with thoughts he really wished it wouldn't harbour, he felt it stir despite how much he told himself that wasn't the case. “He's a mer.” He said through ground teeth. “You don't want to fuck the mer...”</p><p> </p><p><em> Really? </em> His mind said with a laugh. <em> Then why are you thinking about it right now? </em><br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>Clark groaned into the tree, screwing his eyes shut, but even then thoughts of the mer persisted. He thought of his body, how it had felt in his hands, those sounds he made. <em> His hips, don't forget his hips. You remember when he was on top of you? The way it felt as he rubbed against your cock? </em></p><p> </p><p>Clark did, and he bit his lip as his hand trailed up his thigh and took his cock in hand. He let out a quiet gasp. It had been so long since he’d done this, years even, and now, now he was doing it thoughts of the mer. He thought of his body, his face, those eyes watching him. He thought of last night, and what could have happened if he had just kept moving forward. He would have felt those lips on him, and Clark wondered if they were as soft as they looked. His hand moved faster as the thought of what face the mer would have made if they had kissed and before he knew it, he came.</p><p> </p><p>A choked grunt was all that left him, but when it did, he finally cracked open his eyes, looking at the spot on the tree where evidence of his deed lay. He debated washing it away, but in the end didn’t. In fact, he convinced himself that what was seeing was not actually semen, and what he had just done, did not actually happen and was all part of some elaborate fever dream.</p><p> </p><p>Then he heard the chirp.</p><p> </p><p>Clark whirled to the source and saw the mer near the tree line he had walked in from, watching him. Clark didn’t move, didn't breath and figured what he was currently experiencing was a mental overload; there was so much that his brain had to deal with in this moment that it simply chose to not do any of it, and as such, Clark stood naked before the mer, his mouth falling open as words tried and failed to come out for far too long.</p><p> </p><p>As the minutes ticked by, the mer’s head tilted to the side and his eyes began to trail up and down Clark's body before resting on a specific part. As Clark remained still, he chirped again, batting his tail and only then did Clark get jump started into moving. “You--” he sputtered, his face and body thoroughly flushed. “Sneaking up on me; you shouldn't do that!” Clark yelled before reaching for his pants and pulling them on roughly.</p><p> </p><p>If the mer was apologetic, it was lost on Clark as he kept his stare down and marched passed him. Once back inside the cabin, he was at a lose for what to do, so took the opportunity to go change the water in the mer's tub, and as he did, lingered at the shore line. As he stood staring at the water, he suddenly had ample time to deal with the whole new thoughts plaguing him.</p><p> </p><p><em> He saw, he definitely saw. </em> He swallowed thickly and took a deep breath. <em> So he saw you jerking off? What's the big deal? Just pretend it didn't happen, and move on. </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <strike> <em> The big deal is that you touched yourself thinking of a mer. A mer. I see you really have forgone humanity in more ways than one out here. I wish I could get Diana to come and slap you.  </em> </strike>
</p><p> </p><p>Clark's mouth fell open, as his breathing grew laboured. <em> Don't do this, you know I wouldn't have done it if-- </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <strike> <em> If what? Please, you were waiting for this. From the minute you found that thing, you’ve wanted to fuck it.  </em> </strike>
</p><p> </p><p>“Please don't...” he let out, falling into the sand and staring at the damp ground. “I didn’t mean, it was just--”</p><p> </p><p>But he didn’t carry on. He was unable to as his vision began to swim. He closed his eyes and tried to get himself back under control. This was fine, he tried to tell himself. Touching himself was fine. That didn't cross a bridge he couldn't come back from. He was sure plenty of people touched themselves to mers, he was perfectly normal for that.</p><p> </p><p>It was all the other stuff Clark did that was questionable. </p><p> </p><p>Eventually, the mer found him by the water. He came up beside him, and despite how much Clark told himself he wanted the mer to continue past him into the water and never return, he all but melted into the touch when he felt the mer's hand rested on his back.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strike> <em> Don’t. Don’t do this to yourself. You’re falling deeper and deeper and soon even I won’t be able to stop you. </em> </strike>
</p><p> </p><p>Clark heard the voice, agreed with it even, and yet, still chose to fall back onto his rear next to the mer. He turned to him, leaning into his touch. “I'm... sorry for yelling...” He muttered. "You just surprised me." When the mer leant in close, rubbing his check on Clark’s shoulders, he simply took a deep breath, resigning himself to what he was feeling. This was his new normal, now. For better or for worse.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) </p><p>We're getting there, lads. Clark's cracking. Not long till smooches.</p><p>Anyway! Like I said today is my birthday, and I decided much like when you used to bring in candy for your classmates in school on your birthday, I would post another update ;D</p><p>I hope to still post my normal update on Thurs, but I may to it on Fri this week. We shall see (I have yet to actually write it yet... But I am hopeful XD) </p><p>Anyway, as always lemme know your thoughts!! I love reading them &lt;3 Have a nice day, yall! Until next time :D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> July 7th 2016 </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> So the mer has abandoned his spot under the jetty and has now taken to spending his days lounging around inside the whale, which is not something I even remotely considered when I threw it back in the water but we are where we are.</em>
</p><p> </p><p><em><br/>
</em> <em> I mean, it's good in a way. He isn't bothering me as much during the day anymore. It’s like, I take him outside, he swims, eats his fill of the whale, lounges around inside of its rotting guts for a while and when he tries to come back inside, I force him to wash himself thoroughly before carrying him back in. Rinse repeat. </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em> All that? Fine. No problem. What isn’t fine, though, is that he’s started smuggling whale meat to bed every night. I wouldn’t mind if it didn’t stink something awful, so, when I find it in his tub, I’d throw it out. A completely normal response to finding rotting flesh in one's home, right?</em>
</p><p> </p><p><em><br/>
</em> <em> Then the fucker tried to hide a chunk in my bed. </em></p><p> </p><p><em><br/>
</em> <em> Making him sleep outside for that. Little shit. </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em> --- </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <em> July 8th 2016 </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> So last night was something.</em>
</p><p><em><br/>
</em> <em><br/>
</em> <em> After I kicked the mer out, he sat by the door and scratched at it for an hour. </em> <span class="u"><em> An hour </em> </span><em><span class="u"> .</span> It was maddening, just this constant scrape scrape scrape. I finally broke and opened the door to let him in, but he didn’t come inside, no, the fucker harrumphed and then went back into the water.</em></p><p> </p><p><em><br/>
</em> <em> I was shocked. The little shit actually spent the time and energy scraping at my door, but the minute I opened it-- the moment I gave in-- he went ‘nah, fuck you’ and went back into the water.</em></p><p> </p><p><em><br/>
</em> <em> I can’t even be mad. If anything I’m impressed. That is a level of pettiness I thought only I was capable of.</em></p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> --- </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> July 10th 2016 </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I had a visitor today. </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <em> --- </em>
</p><p> </p><p>When the sun rose, Clark woke, got himself dressed, and carried the mer out to sea. He dumped him the water and watched as the mer swam furiously to his whale, and after scaring away the few sharks that had been feeding on it, dove into the cavern he had carved for himself in its stomach.</p><p> </p><p>Clark grimaced as he watched on, but there was a plus side to the mers new found hobby of whale spelunking. With him occupied, it left Clark with plenty of time to do his chores without having to deal with a needy mer interrupting him, and that was exactly what he planned on doing on this particular day.</p><p> </p><p><br/>
But before he could even step off the jetty, the mer was already swimming back up to him. He came out of the water, and chirped, pointing furiously out towards the horizon. </p><p> </p><p>Clark frowned, but didn’t try to ask for clarification. He simply crouched and followed the line of the mer’s finger to where it landed along the horizon. It was then that he saw what he was pointing at. It was a boat and by the looks of it, it was heading straight for his island.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark stood back up and debated what to do. If a fisherman was coming towards his island it was usually the result of a run in with mers, and they were in need of medical or mechanical aid. But as Clark focused on the boat, he realised there was only one occupant and they didn't appear to be in any danger. In fact, as Clark focused he found the heartbeat sounded familiar and after a few moments he realised why.</p><p> </p><p>He crouched down once more, and brought his hand out to the mer, poking him on the forehead. “Best behaviour, alright? We have company.” </p><p> </p><p>As the boat came closer, Clark waved to it, and from the inside, Marcos waved back.</p><p> </p><p>By the time the boat had reached them, the mer had decided to come out of the water fully. Now reclining along the sand as the boat moored on the other side of the jetty from Clark’s. Once the engine was off, Marcos hopped from it with a grin. “Hey, Clark!”</p><p> </p><p>“Marcos.” Clark said with a bob of the head. He looked the boat over. Part of why it had taken him longer to recognize it was due to how different it looked. In place of the rusted hull was an exterior painted in bright red, and a cockpit lined with fresh fiberglass. “Your boat’s lookin’ good, barely recognized it.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Thanks!” He said, slapping the side with a fond sigh. “Me and dad have been working on it a whole bunch. New engine, reinforced hull, and a fresh coat of paint. She’s practically good as new.”  </p><p> </p><p>“I’ll say.” Clark walked down along the jetty towards his house. Marcos followed after him. “Mers give you any trouble on the way?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Not really.” Marcos said with a small shrug. “Few when I first left, but around here not so much. Noticed a whole bunch of sharks that way, though--” Marcos turned and pointed to where Clark knew the whale carcass resided. With the mer now on land, the sharks had resumed their earlier feeding.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Fair enough.” He said, and once on the sand, the mer finally moved from his spot, approaching them carefully and stopping a few feet away. “I will say I was a little surprised to see you.” </p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Oh.” Marcos said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I would have called ahead to let you know I was coming, but I realised I didn't have your number, so I figured I'd just take my chances as I didn’t know when I was going to get another opportunity to drop by.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark frowned. “What do you mean by that?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Well, my dads gone to Redding for a hospital appointment, and he doesn’t like leaving me in charge of the store if he’s not there, so we’re closed for the day. Usually when we’re closed I just play video games all day, but I wanted to come see your island, so I figured this was the perfect opportunity to.”</p><p> </p><p>“I see.” Clark said, titling his head to the side. “Hope you’re dad's okay. Anything serious?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Marcos gave a squirrely shrug of the shoulders, looking away. “He just needs to get some x-rays, that’s all.” </p><p> </p><p><br/>
“Well, that’s not too bad, then.” Clark said with a nod. </p><p> </p><p><br/>
“Yeah.” Marcos said with a smile, but Clark could see it didn’t quite reach the eyes. He didn’t push the issue though, especially as the mer chose this moment to crawl even closer, now sitting on Clark’s feet and staring up at the two of them. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
“I see your mer's not mad at you anymore.” Marcos said with a laugh, which quickly turned into a gasp when the mer started hissing.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Hey.” Clark batted the mers head with his palm. “Don’t be rude.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Marcos gave a nervous laugh, waving his hand. “It’s okay. I'm sure he’s just territorial.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Yeah, well, this is my island, so I decide who can and can't visit. Not him.” Clark looked down at the mer, and when he sent a pout his way, Clark simply rolled his eyes. “I told you, don't be rude.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
The mer grumbled, but otherwise didn’t make any sounds, hissing or otherwise as Marcos and Clark made their way inside the cabin. Once at the doorway, Clark turned to the mer once more. “You coming in or are you gonna sit out there and pout?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
The mer answered that question by remaining still, and pouting.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark rolled his eyes and slid the tub underneath the bed, before gesturing for Marcos to take the seat at the desk whilst he fell into his arm chair. “You want a drink or anything?” He asked.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Sure, what you got?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark leant forward off his chair and looked under his bed. Beside the metal tub, sat a six pack of beer. He pursed his lips. “Uh, beer.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Oh.” Marcos said. “No thanks.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Not a fan?” Clark asked, taking one for himself. He seldom drank, but with company it seemed acceptable. All alone on his island, it just felt depressing. </p><p> </p><p>“Well, i'm not twenty one yet, so…”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark stilled, his hand hovering over the cap of his beer. “...How old are you?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Marcos looked away, a faint blush on his cheeks. “I'll be twenty in august.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“You’re <em> nineteen </em>.” Clark blurted</p><p> </p><p>“Well, yeah.'' Marcos said and upon seeing Clark’s expression, smiled, leaning back in his chair. “Wait, how old did you think I was?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“An adult, at least. God, you still have the word <em> ‘teen’ </em> in your age. What the Hell are you hanging out with me for?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“You’re cool.” He shrugged, looking down at his hands. “And you don’t treat me like a kid.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Because I didn't realise you <em>were</em> one...” Clark grumbled into his beer. “Right, so no beer. I got… uh.” He took a sip. “Water?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, water's okay.” Marcos said with a shy nod. “Although I do have cola in my boat. I could go grab it?” </p><p> </p><p><br/>
Clark pressed his lips together. “Yeah, you might wanna go do that then, ‘cause when I said water, I meant the stuff I have collected in tubs outside and I don't know if it's potable for humans.” </p><p> </p><p>Clark didn’t need to say anything else for Marcos to get up and head to his boat. Once he’d returned, bringing with him his own six pack of the non alcoholic sort. He opened one of the few cans that remained in the holder and sipped at it. </p><p> </p><p>He remained standing for a moment, walking a small loop around the room and taking in the interior of the place. He stopped at the few trinkets that Clark had lying around; the map over his bed, the small collection of seashells on his desk, the lone photo frame next to them, and then went back to his seat, sitting down with a sigh. “This place is nice.” He said, still looking around.</p><p> </p><p><br/>
Clark pressed his lips together. “You’re being polite, which I won't lie, I appreciate, but you can say it’s a shit hole.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Marcos laughed. “No, I mean it. It's cozy.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark took a sip of his beer. Diana's words coming back to mind. “Others aren't as inclined to agree.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Well, I mean, I get that.” Marcos said as he looked down at his can. “When I was sailing in I thought this island looked beautiful. Sand, trees, and sun. If I lived out here and I could afford to, I'd have built myself a giant mansion or something.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Right, I am sort of broke, so…” Clark looked around at the wooden walls and floors. “Shack will have to do.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“You’re broke?'' Marcos tilted his head. “But what about… your... You know.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark pursed his lips. “You're going to have to elaborate.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, you were Superman.” When Clark’s face remained blank, Marcos went on. “Doesn’t being a superhero pay well?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark let out a laugh, that quickly devolved into a fit, one that had him hunched over and aching as the seconds ticked by. When he finally sat up, his eyes were tearing and he had to wipe them away. “Oh, good one.” </p><p> </p><p><br/>
“I'll take that as a no then...” Marcos muttered into his cola. After a few moments, he looked up at Clark through his lashes. “Anyway, this place is still nice. It's like, you got everything you need all in the comfort of one room, well, everything apart from a bathroom.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Oh yeah, I have an outhouse out back, and have tubs I wash with.” Clark said. Marcos nodded at that, opting to not say anything. But Clark didn’t miss the redness on his cheeks. He raised a brow at Marcos. “You need to pee?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“What!” Marcos jolted, though that indigent shock quickly devolved into quiet acceptance. “Yeah… I drank a lot of cola on the way here.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark just shrugged. “I’d probably say just go in the trees somewhere. The outhouse is rather pungent this time of year.”</p><p> </p><p><br/>
“Yeah?” Marcos asked, setting his can down. “I won't be a sec.” He rushed from the cabin, and Clark could hear his retreating footsteps going towards the trees. He looked out the open door and spied the mer still sitting on the beach, watching him. </p><p> </p><p>He got up, and approached the doorway, leaning against it, he called out. “You still being a little sour puss?”</p><p> </p><p>The mers response was a single bat of the tail against the sand. Clark approached him, taking another sip of his beer. “You could go sit in your whale, you know. Don't need to stay here if you’re gonna be grumpy the whole time.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
But Clark knew he wasn’t going to do that. He happened to agree with Marcos’ sentiment. The mer was territorial, and most likely wasn’t going to go anywhere whilst Marcos was still here. Clark crouched down until he was eye level with the mer, and nodded. “Alright, stay here but at least go in the water. You'll shrivel up if you sit in the sun all day.”</p><p> </p><p>With a grumble, the mer conceded, not going far by any means as he swam just under the jetty, his eyes poking out above the surface. Clark simply waved at him before standing back up and looking out towards the trees. “What’s taking him?” He muttered to himself.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
He went towards where he knew Marcos went; where he heard his heartbeat coming from. As he walked through the dense smattering of trees, he realised just where he was hearing Marcos was. As the realization dawned on him, his pace became quicker, and when he bumped his arm on one of the trees he past, his beer went flying. He didn't care though, he just kept moving. He was running now, stepping over the dense roots and leaves under foot until he broke out into the clearing. There were flowers all around, and Marcos stood right in the middle of them all.</p><p> </p><p>Marcos hadn't noticed he wasn't alone, still staring at the floor. Clark ran up to him, grabbing his shoulders and turning him brusquely. “What are you doing here?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“I was just--” he pointed down at the wooden plaques on the floor and Clark saw red.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Did you <em>piss</em> here?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Marcos balked. “ <em> What? </em>No.” He sputtered, as sweat started to collect on his forehead. “I went over there, but then I saw all these flowers and I came to look.” His eyes darted to the plaques again, before going back to Clark. “Who are Lois and--”</p><p> </p><p><br/>
“Stop. <em> Talking </em>.” Clark ground out. “You shouldn’t be here. You need to leave. Now.”</p><p> </p><p>“But--” </p><p> </p><p><em> “Now!” </em>Clark yelled. Marcos let out a choked cry before running, not bothering to avoid the flowers as he made a beeline straight for where Clark's cabin lay. As the seconds ticked by, Clark felt his anger ebate, only to be replaced with a soul crushing sense of guilt. Marcos was just curious, and Clark snapped at him like he was guilty of an even greater crime. He took a deep breath, trying to get himself under control. His hands shook and with each second he could feel the guilt growing.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strike>
    <em> Screaming at a child? God, what has happened to you? I don’t even think I recognize you anymore.</em>
  </strike>
</p><p> </p><p><em><br/>
</em> <em> No. No, I didn’t--</em></p><p> </p><p><em><br/>
</em> Clark took off, flying high about the island. He spotted Marcos running across the sand towards his boat and flew to him, landing just in front. Marcos stumbled backwards, landing on his rear and looking up to Clark, his eyes filled with tears.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Marcos, I--”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry.” Marcos’ blurted as he crawled backwards along the sand. “I didn’t mean to--”</p><p> </p><p><br/>
<br/>
“No, <em> no. </em>” Clark brought his hands out, stepping back. “God, you shouldn't be apologizing. <em>I’m</em> the one who's sorry. I overreacted. I know I did, and you didn’t deserve that. It’s just…” he lowered his hands, taking a deep breath. “You went somewhere very private, and I just...” Clark turned back around, lowering his hands. “Panicked.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Marcos’ still looked terrified, but slowly, on shaky legs, he stood up and eyed Clark. “Why, though? Who… Who’s buried there?”</p><p> </p><p><br/>
Clark could feel his stomach churn. He wanted to fly away; wanted to be anywhere but here. He looked at the sand, at the thousands of individual grains and wanted to count each and everyone of them if it meant avoiding the answer to that question. In the end he looked up, his eyes growing damp. “My wife, and--” but he couldn't finish the sentence, as the tears began to fall. “I'm sorry, I just need a minute to...” He didn’t finish, as he walked away, down along the beach. </p><p> </p><p>He kept walking. Occupying his mind with other thoughts to try and keep the ones that threatened to ravage his mind buried. He stared at the clouds, at the steaks of sunlight, and when he felt his legs couldn't take him any further, he fell into the sand, his eyes still glued to that spot along the horizon.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
He half expected Marcos to leave and never return. He wouldn't have been surprised. It would be fitting for him to lose someone just like he lost Diana. But as the minutes ticked by and those clouds he stared at drifted further and further, he heard the sound of shifting sand, and then there was somebody sitting down beside him.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“I’m sorry.” Marcos said. Clark opened his mouth, ready to repeat everything he had said before, but before he could, Marcos held up his hand. “I'm not talking about what happened back there. I meant, I'm sorry for your loss. I know it must be hard losing someone.”</p><p> </p><p>Clark shook his head. “You shouldn't even be sorry about that. You don't owe me any apologies. I acted like a monster.” </p><p> </p><p>Marcos brought his knees up and rested his head on them. “You acted human. It's normal to be upset when someone intruders on something private.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, well i'm not human. I shouldn't have let my anger get the better of me and for that, I am sorry. You didn't know. You were just curious.”</p><p> </p><p><br/>
Marcos nodded at that, letting out a long sigh. “Yeah, I was. I guess I was wondering who those people were. I mean, I didn't know Superman had a wife.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“You know I didn’t live my entire life as Superman, right?” Clark asked, turning his head by the barest fraction. “I did have a secret identity. Which is now just..." He pressed his lips together. "My identity.” </p><p> </p><p>“So you like, lived amongst the people of Metropolis?” Marcos asked. “Why would you wanna do that when you could fly around the world and just do whatever you wanted?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark smiled at that. “That <em> was </em> what I wanted. Being Superman was just part of my life. If anything I’m more Clark then I ever was Kal. I was raised on earth, lived on a ranch with my parents till I was your age. Then I moved to Metropolis and became a journalist.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Marcos made a face. “A journalist? Why a journalist?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Why not?” Clark said with a smile. “For one, I could interview Superman whenever I wanted. Plus having super powers made other aspects of the job easier, too.”</p><p> </p><p><br/>
“Huh, I didn't think about that.” Marcos said, bumping his shoulder against Clark’s. “Bet that made your coworkers jealous.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Oh, it did.” Clark mused, closing his eyes. If he focused, he could see the office as he last remembered seeing it; Jimmy at his desk, Perry in his office, Lois across from him. It was like he was right back there. “It was actually how me and my wife started dating. She was always suspicious of me, and didn’t understand how I kept getting all these exclusives. So one day she came to my desk, ready to grill me. We spoke for a little while, I used some of the ole Kent charm, and ended up asking her out to dinner.” He smiled. “She said yes.” </p><p> </p><p>Marcos gave a small smile. “I bet she was pretty.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Oh, she was beautiful.” Clark murmured. “You should have seen her on our wedding day. She looked like an angel.” </p><p> </p><p>“How did she…” Marcos began, before trailing off. “Never mind, you don’t need to tell me.” </p><p> </p><p>He winced. It still hurt having to remind himself of that day. He almost didn't respond, but he felt like he owed it to Marcos to help him understand what he had seen. “The Metropolis quake. We were at work when it hit. When the first quake hit us, our office stayed standing at first, so I took off and flew around the city. Saved as many as I could, but then the tsunami came. Our office was damaged worse than I thought by the quakes and it started to collapse in the water. By the time I found Lois, she was clinging onto the edge of a wall, and a mer--” Clark swallowed, taking a deep breath. “A mer was pulling at her feet. Trying to drag her into the water. I used my laser vision and killed him. But before I could get to Lois, she lost her grip and she--” Clark could feel his eyes burn with tears. “She fell in.”</p><p> </p><p>It was the single moment of Clark’s life that he wished he could turn back time to prevent. All he needed was a second. One second to swoop in and catch Lois before she hit the water; before she hit the concrete just underneath the surface. Clark could still hear the sound of her neck breaking, the choked sound of her last breath leaving her. As the moment replayed itself in his mind, it stopped feeling real. It was just a movie he was watching, one that just kept going and going, and no matter what he did, couldn’t be rewound. </p><p> </p><p>As he sat there it was almost as though he could feel the sand beneath him change, as though the world itself was changing back to how it was on that day. Water and debris everywhere, the sound of thousands screaming, and Lois falling to the water. </p><p> </p><p>“I picked her up, and I ended up flying away. People were still dying, screaming for help and I just… left them all. Even though she was dead I felt compelled to get her away from there. I needed to get her somewhere safe, so I just kept flying and flying and before I knew it…” he looked up at the sky. “I ended up here.”</p><p> </p><p>He had almost forgotten Marcos was sat there beside him but then he felt a gentle touch on his shoulder. When he turned to it he saw Marcos’ hand there. “I'm so sorry. I can't even imagine what that's like.” He said, taking a deep breath. “I lost my mom to a quake. I was a baby when it happened though, but my dad still remembers it. Says the waves came in and mom got swept out. Mers went for her and that was it. She was gone.”</p><p> </p><p>“Jesus.” Clark muttered. “I’m sorry.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Marcos shrugged a shoulder, letting his hand fall back to the sand. “That's the thing though, I don't remember her at all. I see pictures of her around the house and everything, but like, it's hard to mourn someone you never met. Even though she was my mom, it's like, I didn't know her. My dad though, he hasn’t forgotten. It’s why he hates the mers. In his mind, if it hadn’t have been for them, my mom might have survived that day, but instead…” </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I can imagine.” Clark said with a shallow nod. “I hated them for a long time, too. Still do, really.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Marcos smiled. “Your mer’s the exception?”</p><p> </p><p><br/>
“I--'' Clark pressed his lips together, before letting out a long sigh. “I don’t even know anymore. I hated him at first, and he’s still a little shit, but… It’s like, we understand each other.” </p><p> </p><p>“That's fair enough.” Marcos said, nodding. “It’s like they say. You can’t help who you fall in love with.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark sputtered at that. “I don't <em> love </em> him. I told you, I'm <em>not</em> a merner. I just--” he swallowed, forcing down the redness in his cheeks. “We’re just... close.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
One look at Marcos’ face told him he was not at all convinced, but thankfully he didn't push the matter opting instead to just shrug. “Fair enough, it's still good though that you have someone out here. Must have gotten lonely before he showed up.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
It was strange. Clark could barely even remember the time before the mer. He wondered how he did manage being alone, but following that train of thought only brought back hazy memories of his first years on the island. It was a wash of sleeping and writing, punctuated only occasionally with trips to Cottonwood and it seemed so much more dull when compared to his life now. The mer for better or for worse is part of why Clark could get up every morning, and doesn't just wile away the time in bed anymore. It was something that Clark would always be thankful for, though he wasn’t going to tell the mer that.</p><p> </p><p>Marcos stood up then, brushing the sand from his pants. “I should head home. Dads hospital appointment will be over soon, and I don't want him getting back before me and wondering where I've been.”</p><p> </p><p><br/>
“That's fair enough.” Clark said, getting up to join him. “I'll walk you back.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>After the short walk back to the jetty, Marcos turned to him. “Thanks for having me Clark.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Yeah… I'm sorry it was so bad. I'll make it up to you next time.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Seriously, don't worry about it.'' Marcos said, waving his hand. “I won't lie, I was terrified of you for a little while there, but I get it, and I forgive you.” Marcos looked down at the sand, and kicked it with his foot. “I also wanted to say… it’s probably gonna sound stupid, but… I think Lois would be proud of you for today.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Huh?”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, well it's like..." He made a face, frowning in thought. "My dad always said ‘mama would be proud’ a lot when I was growing up. Sometimes, it would be for things like when I graduated high school, but sometimes it would be for the smallest things. I did my homework? Mama would be proud. I cleaned my room? Mama would be proud.” He gave a small smile. “I never got it at first, i’d always be like, ‘aren't you proud, too?’ but it was like, I knew he was proud but hearing him say that about my mom, it helped make her feel closer to me. Like, she was there and she really was proud of me for just living my life, even if she wasn’t there to see it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Anyway, I'm sure Lois is proud of you, too. Talking about that day must have been hard for you to do and I'm sure she’s proud of you for doing it. Heck, I’m sure whatever it is you do every day, no matter how big or small, she’d be proud of you for doing. 'Cause moving on with life after you’ve lost someone important to you, is hard, and the fact that you’re here, now, living your life is an accomplishment.”  </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>When Marcos grew quiet, Clark wanted to speak but he found no words. <em>Would she be proud of me?</em> He asked himself. He didn't know, but imagining she was filled him with a warmth he hadn't felt in along time. He tried to say something to Marcos, anything, but nothing came. He managed to let out a shaky breath, as he felt tears slid down his cheeks.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Marcos smiled at him, before glancing at his watch. “Now, I really better get going.” He ran up the jetty and hopped onto his boat. “Thanks again for having me. See you!”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark lifted his hand and waved, being that that was all he was capable of in that moment. He watched as Marcos pulled away, and went on back towards Cottonwood. It was only when his boat disappeared along the horizon, that Clark fell to the sand one more. He brought his hands to his face, feeling the damp skin of his cheeks. </p><p> </p><p>He sat there, lost in thought, until he heard a chirp. When he looked up, the mer was watching him, his eyes still half closed with sleep. Clark smiled, wiping his eyes and nose with his shirt. “Did you fall asleep?” He asked. “What happened to being on guard, huh?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
The mer blew a few bubbles in the water to that, and swam the short distance to shore,before shimmying the rest of the way across the sand to Clark. He reclined next to him, his hand reaching for Clark’s knee. Clark brought his own hand to it and rested it on top. “Well, I don't know about you, but I think that's me done for the day.” He said, still looking at the water. “I think I’m just gonna take it easy. You wanna come inside or you gonna go to your whale now?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>The mer thought for a moment before leaning onto Clark and wrapping his arms around his neck. Clark laughed at that before bringing his hands to the mers hips. “Got it.” He muttered, before lifting the mer easily and heading back inside. </p><p> </p><p><br/>
As he lay in bed, the beginnings of sleep coming over him, he thought of Marcos' word again. He didn’t know if what he'd said was true, but he couldn’t deny he wanted to believe it was. He really did.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>And part of why this Clark is an emotional mess is revealed. Who knows what other secrets will come to light? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) </p><p>Also can we just appreciate that Marcos saw graves on Clark's island, and his first thought wasn't 'this man is a serial killer' and was instead 'he must have lost someone important.' His innocence coming through right there, 'cause ngl if that were me I would have started running XD  </p><p>Also Blue being a lil cutie as always, ngl, him scraping at the door and going back into the water is my favourite thing he has done in this fic, and I can just imagine the incredulous look on Clark's face as he watches him go XD</p><p>Anyway, as always I hope you liked this chapter! Please let me know your thoughts and as always I will see you all next time! Take care, all! :D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chapter 16</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> July 13th 2016 </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> So it turns out the sharks that have been feeding on the whale had enough of the mer chasing them of. He got bit today.</em>
  <em><br/>
<br/>
</em>
</p><p>
  <em> He was all pissy at me as I was wrapping up the bite, and I think it’s ‘cause in his mind, I am the cause of his misfortune due to me throwing the whale out there in the first place. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Still, no amount of shark bites or moping can convince me that keeping an 80 tonne mass of rotting meat in front of my house is a good idea.  </em>
</p><p><em><br/>
</em> <em> But given he got bitten </em> <em><span class="u"> and</span> </em><em>lost his whale, i'm gonna dip into my savings and get him some chicken from Manton. Hopefully that will perk him up. </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em> --- </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <em> July 14th 2016 </em>
</p><p> </p><p><em> Note to self: cook chicken </em> <span class="u"><em> thoroughly </em></span></p><p> </p><p>
  <em> For the love of God, a mer with food poisoning is a level of Hell I did not foresee. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> --- </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <em> July 17th 2016 </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> The mer is feeling better. Less puke which is always a plus sign. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I caved and bought him a steak. I think he deserves it given the Hell he’s going through. Well, that I am technically putting him through.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p><em> I feel awful about it. Honestly I forget not everyone has a cast iron stomach like I do, but still, I figured 'he eats rotting whale meat, pink chicken won't be that bad for him, right?' God, I want to go back and slap past me for causing this shit show, but we are where we are, and now I’m just hoping the minute all the puking stops and I give him the steak, he will stop giving me the death stare. Which, I know I deserve, but still. </em> <em><br/>
<br/>
</em></p><p>
  <em> --- </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> July 20th 2016 </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> He’s okay now. Still a little weak, but that's understandable. What I didn't expect was how much weight he lost. I know he didn’t eat much, if anything, for a whole week, but still, I can see his ribs now and his face is all gaunt.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> He didn’t want the steak, though. When I cooked it up and tried to give it to him, he just looked like he was going to be sick again.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p><em> I know I said I wanted him off of beef, but I had hoped there would be a way I could have achieved that without mentally scaring him. In the end, I just passed him my cooler. It had a lot in there from the last time I went out fishing, and I figured he’d just eat a few and be done, but nope, he ate the whole cooler. I can’t even be mad though, I mean, I did do this to him, so what if I have to do a little extra fishing from now on. </em> <em><br/>
<br/>
</em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em> --- </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> July 27th 2016 </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Whatever sympathy I had, is now gone. </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <em> --- </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“You little shit.” Clark yelled as he ran out of his cabin towards the shore. “Are you <em> kidding </em>me?”</p><p> </p><p>When Clark had woken up that morning, he thought it would be like any of the others prior. The mer was a lot better now, even able to get out of the tub of his own volition again. He of course didn't, still preferring to be carried to and from the water as though Clark had nothing better to do with his time.</p><p> </p><p>It was with this thought in mind that Clark debated carrying him out to the ocean before getting himself ready for the day. That was what he usually did after all, but with the mer sick their usual routine had changed somewhat. In the end he didn’t; the mer still looked to be sleeping, so Clark left him for now and went outside. </p><p> </p><p>After using the outhouse, he lifted his shirt to his nose. When the smell that confronted his senses was potent, even for his lowered standards, he pulled it off and went to the tubs of rain water.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Given it was summer, the weather was growing even warmer and temperamental, which was most likely why he smelt like a freshly cut onion this morning. Ordinarily he wouldn’t wash when the rain water started to dwindle, even if his stretch was verging on eye watering, but he planned on going to Cottonwood in a week anyway, and a large tub could last him if he was careful, so he ended up taking the smallest tub that he had and headed for the trees.</p><p> </p><p>As he pulled off the rest of his clothing, he cast a quick eye towards the cabin. The mer was still in his tub, and Clark looked down at his body and took a deep breath. There was another reason he was washing himself more frequently. He’d found it was the one time of day where he could be alone with his thoughts and deal with what resulted when those thoughts ventured into illicit territories, as being in or near the cabin meant being with or near the mer, especially with him being stuck inside for the past few weeks.</p><p> </p><p><br/>
Seeing him sick was definitely not fuel for these thoughts in the slightest. If anything it had Clark reevaluating every single decision he had ever made regarding the mer, but it was the moments in between those horrors that had Clark’s mind running wild and his hand reaching for his cock.</p><p> </p><p><br/>
For one, the mer didn’t sleep in the tub whilst he was sick. Clark let him sleep in the bed, as keeping him flat was better for his stomach and Clark could then use the tub as a makeshift bucket for the mer to unload his already empty stomach into. It was during this time that Clark also learnt that seaweed worked its magic inside the body of a mer as well as outside, as it was the only thing the mer could bring himself to eat whilst sick.</p><p> </p><p>So it was during this time, as they lay in bed together at night, despite how much Clark would try to keep his distance, that the mer would find him, curl up against him and press his hips right against his crotch.</p><p> </p><p>If he didn't know better, he would almost think it was on purpose. Instead Clark told himself it was because the mer was sick. He assumed if he were ever sick, he’d want the comfort of being close to someone, too. So even when the thoughts of sleeping in his boat came to mind, he stayed put. And he couldn’t deny, he had his own selfish reasons for letting the mer sleep with him. At the end of the day, it felt nice having someone there beside him again.</p><p> </p><p>It also wasn’t as bad at first. The mer often tossed and turned and of course emptied his stomach into the tub during most nights, so his arousal was soon put to bed. But it was as the mer got better and started to press in closer to Clark, sometimes even turning to face him and letting his head rest in the space right underneath his jaw that the issues started to arise.</p><p> </p><p>Sleeping was practically impossible with the mer so close, as if he wasn’t up due to concern over the mers health, it was due his cock getting some very mixed messages from the warm body pressed up against it. It was a strange torture to bare; a mer rubbing against his groin as it alternated between arousing and horrifying him.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
It was when the arousal overwhelmed him to the point he knew he had to do something about it, that he’d go and wash himself, and given the mer was bed bound, he also had the benefit of not having to worry about being snuck up on again.</p><p> </p><p>It was with this knowledge that Clark began to wash himself, his mind filling with thoughts of the night before. The mer moving in his sleep against him, rubbing his hips against his cock until it strained in his boxers. He made noises in his sleep, soft chirps that sounded like they could be words if Clark tricked himself into believing them to be. As he stroked his cock, he bit his lip as he thought about what the mer felt like. He wanted to know how he tasted, and the worst part was that each flick of his wrist, he felt his resolve crumble. It was as though even he knew it was a matter of time before he would succumb to the inevitable.</p><p> </p><p>He came, and as the haze of arousal left him, he was better able to get a hold of himself. He'd gotten it out of his system, what ever 'it' actually was. Now he was able to withstand whatever temptations lay before him. He had to remind himself that this is what mers did, that thoughts were okay so long as he never let it get beyond that. He had to be strong.</p><p> </p><p>Which, ironically was far easier given that in this exact moment he was filled with nothing but rage.</p><p> </p><p>As he had walked back from washing, he pulled on his old boxers, and made his way back inside, intent on changing into new clothes once there. He definitely needed to do laundry, but he still had some shirts and boxers that were clean enough to last him until his next trip, or so he thought. </p><p> </p><p>On his way back to his cabin, he spotted the mer at the shore lounging beside a mound of sand, but thought nothing of it. He had managed to get himself out of the tub, which was something, and Clark didn’t have to worry about doing it himself which was nice. He then made his way inside and only paused when he pulled open his dresser drawer, and found it empty.</p><p> </p><p>Clark knew he still had clean clothes, he had seen them only the night before, but what was more baffling was when he tried to look into his hamper to see if maybe he was incorrect about having anything left clean, he found it missing as well.</p><p> </p><p>It was then that he realised that the lump next to the mer was not infact sand.</p><p> </p><p>After scrawling a hasty sentence in his journal, he ran from the cabin, yelling out to the mer. But by the time Clark reached him, it was too late. His clothes were drenched and he could see a few floating off in the waves. He was dumbfounded; struggling to come to terms with the fact that the mer, having only recently regained a portion of his mobility, managed to carry all of his clothes into the water and dump them, only to then sit beside the damp mound, grinning. </p><p> </p><p>“Did you throw my clothes into the water?” Clark ground out, despite seeing with his own eyes the answer to his question.</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t expect the mer to look apologetic, but it was rather striking to see just how little regret for his actions he had as he lounged on his side, using his tail to further push Clark’s clothes into the water.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Stop it, you little--” Clark rushed to the pile, throwing pieces from it back onto the dry sand. They were drenched already, but beyond the few pieces he was able to scoop up from the shallow waves, were pieces of white fabric floating even further than the rest, far out at sea. Clark squinted at them, and when he noticed what they were, he turned to the mer, his voice cold as ice. “You threw my underwear in there, too?”</p><p> </p><p>The mers grin grew.</p><p> </p><p><br/>
“You mother fucker--” Clark lunged for him, though his brain had apparently not thought to do anything beyond that action and as such, he ended up on top of the mer, looming over him without any other thoughts appearing in his mind to guide him. </p><p> </p><p>The look in the mers eyes was mischievous, and it was then that Clark’s anger started to dwindle, though not by much as the sheer ridiculousness of the situation kept stoking the flames back to life. “<em>Why </em> would you do that?” He asked, using every ounce of his being to keep his voice even. </p><p> </p><p>The mer’s ears twitched, and Clark felt his anger flair as he rolled his eyes at the question. But soon after, the mer gave a series of long and short chirps, punctuated with gestures out to sea, then he lay one of his hands on his stomach and rubbed it. When Clark didn’t speak, the mer let out a frustrated sigh and repeated the chirps again, louder and faster, but he didn’t need to. Clark pulled back onto his rear. Understanding dawning on him. “You’re mad about the chicken." He said softly. "‘Cause it made you sick.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
The mer made a face and gave a shallow nod, as though the answer were right, but only just. Clark had to assume there was more behind the mers actions, but for now, he counted himself lucky he understood as much as he did. He gave a beleaguered sigh. “Alright, well, i’m sorry for that. I should have been more careful, and I can understand why you’d be mad, but--” Clark huffed. “You didn't have to throw my clothes out to sea!” </p><p> </p><p>The mer however, only shrugged. He pushed himself up on his arm, and brought his other hand to the waistband of Clark’s underwear.</p><p> </p><p>The sudden shift had Clark drawing a blank, and he could practically feel the blood rushing to his face. “What are you doing?”</p><p> </p><p>The mer tucked a claw around the waistband, and let the weight of his hand slowly pull it down. Clark was frozen. It was as though his mind had abandoned him and in an instant, Clark forgot how to breath, how to move, how to do anything to even attempt to prevent what was currently happening.</p><p> </p><p>Then the mer paused. The band was low now, and Clark could see the hair down there come into view. He knew it wouldn't be much longer until another part of himself would be on show, but for the time being, the mer didn't seem curious to see it-- again. He let go of the band, and fell back against the sand. Despite Clark thinking if the mer were to stop he’d regain control of his faculties, that didn't happen. He remained rooted in place.</p><p> </p><p>He remained where he was, over the mer, and slowly that mischievous look on his face was gone, replaced with one of quiet sadness. He looked away then, out to the water, and apparently that was all it took for Clark to start moving. </p><p> </p><p>He stood up and looked down at the mer. There were a multitude of things he wanted to say, but in the moment all that came out of his mouth was a husky; “You’re going to go get my underwear now.” When the mer didn’t move, Clark prodded him with his foot. “Hey. You had your fun. Now go get them back, or you’re sleeping out here for a month.”</p><p> </p><p>Begrudgingly, the mer went to the water. Though not in his usual crawl, instead choosing to roll lengthwise across the sand, grumbling all the while. Once in the water, he righted himself and swam lazily towards the floating garments. </p><p> </p><p>Whilst he did that, Clark turned his attention to the wet pile beside him. Even though he wanted to wait a few more days before going to Cottonwood, he had a feeling that the sensation of salt infused fabric on his skin would make him mad before that, so it was with a sigh that he resigned himself to making an earlier trip.</p><p> </p><p>He rummaged through the pile to find the thinnest, most breathable pieces he owned. Once he had both a shirt and a pair of pants, he went into his house and hung them up, hoping they’d dry and not be too stiff by the time he could go wash the rest.</p><p> </p><p>As he walked back outside the mer was on land, and much to Clark’s chagrin, holding his underwear in his mouth. Clark cleared his throat and approached him, holding out his hand. “Alright, hand em over.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
The mer opened his mouth, and the underwear fell onto the ground with a wet slap. Clark knew from eyeing the few pairs there that this wasn’t all of them, but he supposed he should be thankful the mer had gotten the few that he had and wasn't forcing Clark's hand in going commando for the foreseeable future. </p><p> </p><p>He bent over to pick them up, and felt his ire rise as he noticed the small holes in them. “Really couldn’t have used your hands, huh?” Clark muttered as his finger pushed through one of the small indents in the fabric.</p><p> </p><p>The mer only shrugged and leant back across the sand, his tail swishing once more. Clark took a deep breath. “So, are we even now?”<br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>The mer pondered the question, but as Clark stared at him, his foot tapping as he waited for his response, he only crossed his arms and shrugged one more.</p><p> </p><p>Clark huffed a sigh. “Look, you can be mad at me, but I mean it. No more of this--” he gestured to the wet clothes. “--From now on if you're pissed. You let me know.”</p><p> </p><p>A glare was the only response he got and it was as Clark watched that face, that his shoulders slumped and he let out a sigh. Suddenly the mers earlier tangent made a little more sense. “Oh.” He looked away. “I get it.”</p><p> </p><p>The mer tilted his head at that and sat up, eyeing Clark.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“You can't use words to let me know when you’re mad.” Clark said softly. “You were upset about the whale, and then the chicken, and you couldn’t express that anger with words, so you took it out on my clothes.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
The mer looked away. But Clark saw him nodding, and despite how he tried to hide it; the expression on his face seemed all the more bitter.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark crouched down and set the underwear back on the sand. “Look, I know we have our troubles communicating.” He reached out for the mers hand and surprisingly, he let him take it. “But if you take the time to try and talk to me, i’ll listen and do what I can to understand you. If you're mad, or annoyed, or upset ‘cause of something I did, you need to let me know. We’ll get there, I promise, even if it takes some time.”</p><p> </p><p>The mer didn’t respond right away. But as the seconds ticked by, eventually, he turned to him and moved in closer, resting his head against Clark’s shoulder. He let out a quiet grumble, and Clark huffed. “And I promise i’ll never give you chicken ever again.”</p><p> </p><p>That caused a smile, and the mer tucked in even closer against his neck, purring. Clark swallowed as he felt the heat pool in his face and gut, and he quickly stood up. He cleared his throat. “Alright, now that that's dealt with; I gotta go deal with all of this.” He looked over to the pile and didn’t even attempt to hide the frown on his face.</p><p> </p><p>In the end the trip to Cottonwood to wash his clothes didn’t take up as much of the day as Clark had thought it would. He got there-- looking more disheveled and haggard than he has any recollection of ever looking-- and after washing and drying his clothes, he made his way to Lucy’s to pick up some supplies. </p><p> </p><p>Ordinarily, he would use this opportunity to catch up with Lucy, but as he entered the store on this occasion he realised that wasn’t going to be an option. He noticed Colin walking through the aisles as he stepped inside, and after making eye contact with him, Clark began to throw things into his basket, hoping to check out and be on his way as fast as humanly possible.</p><p> </p><p>Yet, despite his rushing, he was still stopped a few yards from the store by a voice calling his name and despite how much Clark wanted to ignore it, he slowly turned around.</p><p> </p><p>Colin was still in the doorway, but he let the door close as he approached Clark. “Hey.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Hey.” Clark said, frowning. “What is it?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Colin looked around, and Clark could have sworn he could see the sweat collecting across his forehead. His heart was hammering too, and despite how much he told himself he disliked the man before him, he could still feel his concern mount even though he wanted to ignore it. </p><p> </p><p>After a few moments of silence, Clark debated just walking away, but as though Colin had heard that thought, he blurted out, “I'm sorry.” </p><p> </p><p><br/>
“Uh.” Clark pursed his lips as he tried to parse what he was hearing. “It’s okay?” He ended up saying. </p><p> </p><p>Clark didn't know what response Colin was looking for, but apparently that wasn’t it as he let his head fall forward. He let out a shaky breath as he stared at the floor, and all of a sudden he started moving, hurriedly walking away.</p><p> </p><p>As he watched him go, Clark could feel his concern and confusion fighting for dominance in his mind, but in the end the confusion won and he ended up rooted to the spot for a while as he tried to understand what exactly had just happened.</p><p> </p><p>Colin was sorry, but for what, Clark didn't know. He thought back to the last time he had even seen him; on the boat as Antonio stabbed the mer and he and Steve watched on. Was that it? Was Colin feeling remorse for his actions on that day? Was it for Elyss? Or for Tom? Or was there something else that Clark didn’t know about that was causing this need to repent?</p><p> </p><p>In the end, despite how much Colin’s apology weighed on his mind, he ignored it for now and made his way home. After getting there, and putting his clothes back inside his dresser where they belong, he fell onto his bed and resumed his earlier contemplation.</p><p> </p><p>The mer chose to join him as he thought, lounging beside him in the tub, dozing. It was as Clark watched him sleep, that he could almost feel something looming, something that he couldn’t even comprehend beyond how it seemed to make his spine tingle. As he watched the mer, he could feel his attention wane, and all of sudden it was Colin’s face there before him, and the more he focused on it, the more the subtleties of it became apparent. The drawn lips, the tired eyes, the reigned expression.</p><p> </p><p>The whole day was spent dwelling on that face. As Clark went around the island, it was as though his body were running on autopilot. He had no recollection of doing anything, and yet, the sun was soon lower in the sky and the clouds were brewing above. He could feel a storm coming.</p><p> </p><p>He tried to tell himself that was what he was anticipating. Something in the air had told him the wind and rain was coming, and yet, even as he told himself that, the unease didn’t leave and Colin’s face remained. As evening rolled in and the rain began to fall, Clark retired to his bed. The mer was still in the tub, and as Clark lay down beside him, he watched his sleeping face once more and found himself asleep soon after.</p><p> </p><p>At least, he thought he was asleep. But the sound of wind rattling against his windows and the pitter patter of rain never left. If anything it grew louder and louder until it became a blanket of noise so thick it was as though there were suddenly no sound at all. Eventually this deafening silence had Clark opening his eyes and yet, when he expected to see his cabin he instead found a vast emptiness.</p><p> </p><p>He saw it then. The lake he was coming to know intimately. </p><p> </p><p>He drifted towards it, and when he reached the edge, he crouched down and sat, watching the rippling surface.</p><p> </p><p>It was as he watched the surface that he saw movement along the edge. It was an eel and as it swam, a thought struck him;</p><p> </p><p>A lone eel in the water. Black eyes in the darkness. Sharp teeth snapping shut.</p><p> </p><p>He jolted awake and all at one the silence left and the sound of the storm resumed. He looked to the mer to see if he had awoken him, but when he saw those eyes remain shut. Clark took stock of himself, and let out a slow breath.</p><p> </p><p>He had seen it. He had finally seen it, and now. It was all coming back to him. He stood up on shaky legs and made his way to his desk. He fell onto the seat and opened his journal, he started to write and didn't stop until he had gotten every word out.</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> July 27th 2016 </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Cont’d </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>  I think I know why I keep having that dream. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> When I was a kid, I used to go swimming. Ma and Pa never knew of course. If they did, I know I’d have never heard the end of it. They told me all about the mers, to keep away from them, and I did what I was told. I kept away from those things. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> But the water? I couldn’t do it. On a hot summer's day I would look across those waves, and want nothing more than to plunge myself into them, to go as deep as I could and stay there. Surrounded by blue. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> So that’s what I did. I’d wait till the dead of night and then go swimming. I did it for months and months, swimming across the ocean floor where I could see it all of it spread out before me. An abyss of nothingness, that no human had ever had the privilege of seeing the way I had. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Then one night whilst I swam, I came across it. Where I’ve been dreaming of.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I saw the lake. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Well, it wasn’t really a lake. They’re called brine pools; places in the ocean where the water is denser because of the higher salinity. But to twelve year old me, it looked like a lake.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> The water was murky, like liquid smoke, and it was surrounded by rocks and molluscs. Once I found that lake, I’d go there every evening and sit there looking at the rippling surface for what felt like hours, and eventually, I’d even forget where I was.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I’ve never felt peace like it. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> That deep down, you can only hear the water, the distant hums of whales and the quiet batting of fish fins as they found traction in the water. All else is gone. No voices, no people. Just yourself and the water.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I think I managed to block out what I saw down there because it didn’t even feel like I was awake anymore. I was asleep, dreaming even, and the water was singing me a lullaby.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> But I know I was awake.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> One night as I was looking out across the pool, I saw movement. It was so slow I took me a minute to realise what I was seeing.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> It was an eel. A meek looking thing, batting itself along the lake's surface, but then all of a sudden, it dove into the lake but when it came out, it was not the same. It contorted, writhed, as though drowning in the water. Before long it died. The salt in the pool was too much for it.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> It floated there, along the surface of smoke, and that's when I saw what had been sitting along the edge the entire time. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> It had been so still I didn’t even see it laying there. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> At first I thought it was a fish. Some ugly, prehistoric thing that the ocean was known for harboring in its depths. But it was more than that. It was one of those things, but it was a kind I had never seen before or since. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> It looked like a nightmare; so far removed from its human looking counterparts that I wouldn’t have even thought them the same genus. Yet it was. It had hands. It had a face. It had a torso. A tail. It was one of them. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>  Its hand came forward, spindly and black, and reached out across the water, grabbing the limp eel and bringing it to its deformed mouth where it bit its head clean off.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I don’t remember what happened after that. I don’t even know how I got home, but I must have gotten there somehow because the next thing I know, I’m in bed and Ma is waking me up for breakfast. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> That thing haunted me. For years, when I looked at those waves all I saw were black eyes and jagged teeth, and I never went into the water again.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> As the years passed, more and more of that thing and that night faded from my memory. It stopped feeling real, it was just a horrible dream that my conscious conjured up, no more real than the dreams that preceded or followed it. Before long, it left my memory all together. A blank space where my mind dared not to go, and I never wanted to venture into. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Until I learnt its name. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> When I heard those words, I knew that’s what I had seen down there. An abyssal fin. A mer so warped by the pressure of the ocean that it no longer even looks like a mer. Yet, if I am to believe Dr. Hadal, is.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p><em> As I sit here and think of that night, I can still feel a fog over the memory. It’s sparse, with the whole image of the mer now lost to time, and only fragments of its appearance coming back to me now. But I know there is more to it than I remember. More that I am choosing to not think about, and for the life of me, I don’t know why. I thought it was just the mer itself plaguing me, that awful face, those blank eyes, but now I keep asking myself; what happened after? Why don’t I remember getting home? </em> <strike><em> Why do I feel like it’s calling me?  </em></strike></p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>As Clark finished writing, his eyes lingered on the last sentence and carefully, he drew a line through it. Despite still seeing the words clearly, he had hoped the line would somehow keep those words at bay and he could push that idea from his mind altogether. That thing was not calling to him, there was nothing more to that night.</p><p> </p><p>And yet, that didn’t happen. As Clark sat at his desk, head in hands, he tried to push thoughts of that thing from his mind once more, and yet they stayed. He supposed the one up side he could see was that age had recoloured the memories. Thoughts of the thing no longer filled him with dread, or caused his mind to shut down before he could remember what he had seen. Only now that he was grown, was he able to look at that moment of his life and not look away in fear.</p><p> </p><p>Despite that, he didn’t know what exactly the dream was trying to tell him. Perhaps it was that the mer he had seen had indeed been real and not just a dream, and that, according to Elijah, it was a mer that was thought to be extinct. He didn't know what to do with the information, and his earlier tiredness was coming back to him; the adrenaline forced upon him by the dream now gone.</p><p> </p><p>He went back to bed, and fell into the sheets. The wind was still howling still, so Clark pulled the pillow over his ear, and tried to relax his mind until sleep took hold once more.</p><p> </p><p>Then he fell asleep; oblivious to the boat approaching his island.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hullo all!</p><p>Sorry for the delay with this update. My motivation took a hit this past week with having headaches pretty much every day (which was sooo much fun), but also, my general procrastination is coming back slowly but surely, so chances are, it is going to be every two weeks for updates going forward, but I like to keep things spontaneous as you know, so it could be less! (also could be more, but it won't be longer than 9 months between updates, promise XD)</p><p>Also hearing from you guys how much you are enjoying this fic is really what keeps me going. I love reading all your lovely comments &lt;3 &lt;3 &lt;3</p><p>Anyway, enough of the boring stuff. Let's talk this chapter! We had a title name drop, Blue being a little shit, Colin being vry suss, and Clark remembering what he saw on that fateful day, and of course, that boat.... What it all means, who knows... ;) </p><p>Alrighty, with that said, as always, comment and kudos if you're liking the story so far! And I will catch you all next time! Take care! :D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Chapter 17</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> The storm’s getting bad. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Is that the door?  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Must be the mer. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em> But are those… Footsteps?</em>
</p><p><em><br/>
</em> <em><br/>
</em> <em> No, can’t be. Must be the rain. </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Something fell. I think it broke. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Wait, screaming? Why is he-- </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <em> I̶̩̖̲̼̯͍̹̻̪̓̌̈́͆̈́͐́̏̂̐͂ ̴̬̦̼̌̊͗̋̂͆͌̆͆̄̃̊͒̈͒̈́̈͝͠͝w̶̡̨̛̛̘͓͍̟̖͉͆̀̓̉͗̽͂̾͒̃͛̾̍̊͑͒̉̿͛̍̅͐̑̔͑͘į̴̧̡̣̪̳̳̜̤̮̪̹̥͈̟̖̤͚̺̭̣̲̂͒͛̾̑̎̎̃̒̓͊̈́̐͜͜͜͝l̴̨̨̧̡̧̢̢̧̛̯̬̭̦͔͈̩͓̓̅̌̊̂̏̾͆͗̃̿͛͜͠l̶̖͚͑̅̌̍̏̒̔̓͋̂̀͌͋̂̅͛ ̵̢̨̱̩̳̟̜̫͕͉͎̪̘̪͍̯̘̭̬̤̪̭̙͓̫̃͋̇̈̎͛̃͘ͅͅḱ̸̡̢̧̻͍̣͖̬̻̥͍̠̘̮̗̖̯̘̜͓̼̜̬̹̫̣̈̈́̑̅̒̒̾͘̕͜͜i̸̢̛̫̤͉̭̘̞͆̒̀͐̂̈́̄̑͂̌͂̈́͂̏͂̐͋̿̈l̷̡̢͙̻̲̝̩̮̲̯͍̼̠̓͑̍̃̑̏̕͜ļ̷̧̢̦͍̥͇̥͈̹̻̖̘͚͎̖̞̪͈͉̆̂͆̈́̂͊̋̇̌̆̐͋͒̅̿̂͘̕͜͝ͅͅ ̷̬͓̥͚͙͚̣͓̮̳͍͕̼̦͂͐́̑͊́͆̔̓̾̚ḁ̷͇͔̦̺̲̭̈́̔l̷̠͉̫͚͗̉͊̌͂̈́̏̿̉͐̓̑͝ļ̵̢̳̜̲̥̟̈̒͐́͌̀̔̚͜͠ ̶͖̰̣̬̲̰̻̫̩̀͜͠͝o̷͙̯̝̫̟̜̳̻͔̯̺̤̹̜̦̭̰̘̟̝͚͖̭̔̓͑̓͗͂̇͌̈͛͜͝͝ͅf̶̨̛̮͍̣̙̱̮͎̉̍͘͝ ̶̛͖̳̱̣̜̠̭͉̝̹̟̈̃͗͛̒̽̎͂̇͂̍͒̇̄̈͘̚͝͝ͅͅȳ̶̢̛̥͕̝̘͈̬̗͖̺̫̼̤̞̜̱̱̟̬̮̲̩͖͚͎̟̥̩́̓̂̓̓̆͛̋͆̀̄̚̕͜o̷̪̙̠̓́̅̓̋̿͛̊͂̉̆́̃͐̆̈́̅͑͘̚̚͠ṳ̶̢̧̧͇̫͔͖̲̻͍͎͈͉̝̈́̑̓̆̄̃̎̀͋̇͒̏͊̄.̸̡̢̧̛͙̰̞͇̜̖̻̙̬̟͉̰̘̝͖̝̻̼̜̐̓̔͒͋͠ </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <em>Fuck. My head, what the Hell is going on?  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Wait.</em>
</p><p><em><br/>
</em> <em><br/>
</em> <em> What was that bang? </em></p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <em> N̸̢̨̧̳̲̮͇͖̫̼̘͍̻̫͔̭̲͍̝͈̹̟͌̇́̎͋̊͊̇̓̿̈́̈́͐̾̍̚ơ̷̤̞̰̫̞̮̯̱͐̔̑̔́̏̌̓́̌͐͊͝͠͝͝!̸̧̛̯̳̟̻͍́̊͂͆͂̐̊̂̿̒̈́͊͗͂̕͝ </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <em>Augh. Now there’s ringing… In my ears...  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> It’s so loud.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Why? </em>
</p><p> </p><p><em><br/>
</em> <em> What is happening? </em></p><p> </p><p>When Clark opened his eyes, he was confronted with darkness. He could feel the soft pillow still pressed over his face, and for a moment, he thought the strange sounds he had heard must have been from a mix of delirium and the storm. A scream of wind. A loud bang of thunder. A piercing voice. </p><p> </p><p>What that didn’t explain was just why his ears were still ringing, or why wind and rain now swirled around his cabin. No, the bang hadn’t been from high up above the swirling clouds, the sharp scream hadn’t been a misheard howl of wind. It had all come from this room.</p><p> </p><p>Then he heard voices.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Why are there voices? Who is here? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Jesus christ, Toni.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“What? The screaming was gonna wake him up. Now come on and help me restrain it.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Oh my God, we fucking--”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Colin, I swear to God if you start freaking out again, I'm throwing you in the water.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“We could have talked with him, maybe he would have--”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“We have been over this, he wasn’t going to give up his mer, so just forget about it. What’s done is done.”</p><p> </p><p>“Speaking of, what are we meant to do with it?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“The tranquilizers are working. Looks like it’s calming down. Once it’s out, we’ll put the muzzle and blindfold on and we can move it to my boat.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“What about--”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Colin. He is <em> gone </em> . I shot him in the <em> head </em>, now will you just grab the things tail so we can fucking leave already?”</p><p> </p><p><br/>
Clark frowned. Restraints? Tranquilizers? <em> What? What is going on?  </em></p><p> </p><p>The sound of sloshing water came next. Then the sound of something else falling and breaking.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“ <em> Jesus</em>, I thought you said the tranqs had kicked in!”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“They should have! I gave him enough to put down a cow, how the <em> fuck </em> is he still awake?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Give him more, come on Toni… I can’t keep a hold of him.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
More things hit the floor, quickly followed by muffled screams, but slowly, those sounds stopped altogether, until only haggard breathing filled the room.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Fuck me. Alright. <em> Now </em> we can move him to the boat.”</p><p> </p><p>He heard the creak of the door as it was once again opened, and soon the sound of rain engulfed the room once more. The wind was still howling, and with each violet burst of it Clark's sheets grew wetter until he was almost slick with water.</p><p> </p><p><br/>
<em> What a strange dream. </em>Clark thought to himself as he lay there. </p><p> </p><p>Perhaps he was lucid. It would help explain what he was feeling. He’d heard of similar things happening to some people as they slept, but even that couldn’t explain how real everything felt. Even now as he slowly moved his hand, he could feel the damp sheets under his fingers, the wind whipping against him. Despite this, he didn’t rise. He was so tired, and for a time, he simply listened to the rain, his body almost relinquishing to sleep once more.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Almost.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Ṗ̵̪̙̙̻̲͔͈̘̼̦̦͉͔̟̘̜͆͌̃̒̄͌̽͗͛̄̈́̕͘͘͝ͅļ̷̣̗͚̤̿͋̋̓̐͜͜͝e̷̡̢̹͙̜̝̿̂͌̈̓a̸̡̛͔͚̟̳̫͕̹̱̽͛͛̽̏͛̾̕͜͝s̵̻̜͉͉̱̘͆̎͑͐͝ę̸̰̹̼̪͚̩̱̳͍̣̆̓̿̏͐̈́̃̎͛͆̔͜͝͝.̵̡̻̤̮̗̲̦͔͎̙̙̦͓̑̾͌͂.̶̗̘͚̜̝̯͉̉͛̊̊̊̑̂̉̌̉̈̏͊͝.̶̭͖̜͉̙͛̆̂̍̅̑̽̎͐̚ ̷̦͇͕̟͇̟͔̳̲͍̣̝͆͗͛́͂̃͑̽ń̴͍̩͔̼̺̺̜̪͎̳͑͌̓͜ơ̷̡̦͛̐̏̌̾̕͜.̶̢̰̬͈͓̠̪̭̻̯͓̳̞̳̳̒̋̈́̐͐̈̾̽̋̍͋̆̆̑̕.̴͖͖̼͎̽.̶̛͉̳̳̻̭͚̺͔͗̿̏̽͊͑̈́͗͂͐̓̍͝͝ ̶̛̜̃͗̋͌̈̉̉̓͒͠d̶͕̤̠̳͍̥͔̖͓̟̹̝̩̊͘ͅǫ̴̹͍̬͚̣̯̏́̿̊̏n̶̬̝̊̽̓̒͊̓̔͋̃͆̄̈́̔'̶̨̜̖̲̺̪̳͎̄̊̇͆̇̇̂̋t̴̤̰͔̹̬̞̼͂̄͂̈́͝.̶̭͊͆̂̓͊̂̽̕.̷̢̩͖͚͔̜͓̥͔̈͆͐̏̽̓̎͊͑́̕͝.̶̨̛̛̤̥̺͚̹̅̏̉͌́̉͒͒̋͋̐͠</p><p> </p><p><br/>
A swirl of panic rushed through him, and he jolted up. As he turned to the tub, he let out a choked breath when he found it empty. It hadn’t been a dream. Whatever happened here was very much real, and as Clark replayed the words he’d heard he felt his stomach churn. He jumped up and looked around the room. The floor was wet and clumps of sand; his desk was toppled over with its contents strewn across the ground. The ringing was still there in his ears, and when he reached for his pillow, he found a single hole running all the way through it. He soon spotted the bullet embedded in the wooden floorboard.</p><p> </p><p>He swallowed down the bile threatening to spill out. That could wait for now, he thought, he had other, more pressing issues to attend to. He stumbled out of his home through the still open door. The rain was making it hard to see, but that didn’t matter to Clark who spotted a group of men slowly making their way to the jetty with something heavy being carried between them.</p><p> </p><p>He ran towards them. “Hey!” He screamed through the rain, and despite the cacophony noise, he was heard.</p><p> </p><p>The men whirled on him, the load in their arms dropping to the floor with single thud. He took in all their faces, and the moment recognition struck, Clark felt whatever shock he had evaporate into thin air. Had he been expecting this? No. And yet, as he stared at Antonio’s face, Clark could name every emotion he was experiencing and surprise was not one of them. </p><p> </p><p>Antonio's eyes blew wide. “What the fuck?” He muttered.<br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>“You said you shot him!” Colin shouted, stepping back, his hands going to his hair. “Oh my God. We’re dead, we are so dead!”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Colin, calm down!” Antonio yelled, his hand reaching for his gun. The moment it was out of its holster it was on Clark. “Sorry about this, Kent.” He said. “Nothing personal.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark ignored him for the moment, his eyes going to the mer instead. He wasn’t moving, but he was definitely still alive if the heartbeat Clark was hearing was anything to go by. The only issue was that it had slowed to a crawl. One that had Clark’s own hammering at the idea at any moment it might just stop all together. He couldn’t think about that now, he told himself. He took a deep breath and raised a brow to Antonio. “That's a lie.” He said blankly. “This is a little personal.”</p><p> </p><p>Antonio smiled at that, before quickly shrugged. “Alright, so it is. But I can't help the fact that you are the one who has a literally gold mine sleeping in their house.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark looked to his ‘gold mine’ once more, before forcing his stare away. “So that’s why you’re doing this?” Clark asked. “Money?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Do you know how much someone would pay for a mer like this?” Antonio said, using his foot to prod at the mers limp body. “A million. One <em> million </em> dollars for a single mer.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<em>Someone.</em> Clark pressed his lips together. There was only one person he could think of that fit the bill and it just so happens that he knew for a fact Antonio knew him as well. Clark shook his head. “So Elijah put you up to this?” He rolled his eyes. “Go figure.”</p><p> </p><p><br/>
“He doesn’t know we’re here.” Colin said, grimacing. “No one does. Well, aside from--”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Colin. <em> Shut up </em> .”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Why, though?” Clark asked, crossing his arms. “I mean, you plan on killing me, right? What’s that saying, ‘dead men tell no tales’? Or are you planning on missing my head again?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“God, how can you be looking into the barrel of a gun, and still be a cocky shit?” Antonio huffed. “I have to say, i'm a little impressed, Kent. Most people would be pissing themselves if they were in your shoes.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“I'm not most people.” Clark muttered. “And given I’m as good as dead, I figured I should at least be allowed to know how you found out where I lived.”</p><p> </p><p>The men all looked to one another, and slowly, Steve reached into his pocket. He pulled out something small, and with a flick of the wrist a blade emerged from it. A pocket knife. “Marcos.'' Clark said, and despite it all, he didn't even sound surprised.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Don't blame the kid.” Antonio said, with a sigh. “We know about him coming to visit you, know about him helping you in getting rid of the mer thanks to that knife we found, and you can imagine with Salvator sick right now, Marcos didn’t want us to tell him what he did. If it makes you feel better, he really didn’t want to, but...”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Wait, Salvator’s sick?” Clark asked, frowning. “How sick?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Cancer.” Steve said, pressing his lips together. “It’s early stages, but…”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Considering his age you can imagine Marcos doesn’t want to upset him right now.” Antonio finished for him.</p><p> </p><p>Clark’s mouth fell open, and for a moment he was lost for words. He thought of Marcos' visit, to the reason he was even able to visit his island in the first place. The hospital. X-rays. “Fuck.” He muttered to himself as he brought his hands to his face. “So that’s it, you threatened a <em>kid</em> to tell you where I lived so you could make some money?” Clark grimaced before lowering his hands. “God, I knew you were trash but this really is something else.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“We didn’t have a choice!” Colin blurted. He was shaking now, whether it be from the cold of the rain or from something else, Clark didn’t know. “Just like we didn’t want to hurt Tom, but--”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Steve reached for his arm. “Colin, you need to calm down--”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“No!” He said, pulling away. “God, this is all my fault. If I didn’t mention the fucking land, you wouldn’t have tried to threaten Tom! And none of this would be happening right now!”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Colin. Calm. Down.” Antonio said, his voice treading the fine line between cold and thunderous. “Just go to the boat. We’ll handle this.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“No.” He said, shaking his head. He turned those watering eyes to Clark. “We did it. We killed Tom. I asked if I could buy some land from him, to maybe try my hand at farming instead of shipping, but he said no, and when I told Toni about it all he said we could ‘persuade’ him by threatening his mer.” Colin laughed. It was a sharp and bitter sound filled with all too much panic. “And how did that go Toni? Huh? How did it go when you shot the mer? How did it go when Tom pulled out a shotgun and you fucking killed him?!”</p><p> </p><p>“Colin!” Antonio snapped. “For the love of God, calm down!”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“It’s easy for you to say, you have Carla wrapped around your fucking finger. You could throw me and Steve under the bus and you’d be able to walk away scot free!”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Well, I wouldn't do that.” He said, looking away. “We’re a team, remember?”</p><p> </p><p>Colin didn’t respond, opting instead to huff and walk away down the beach. He didn’t stray far though and as Clark watched him pace, he thought for a moment. “So that's what you did.” He said, looking between them all. “Porter. Tom. You threatened their mers to get what you wanted out of them. The shipment and the land. Porter complied, but when Tom didn’t, you killed him.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Antonio’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know about Porter?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“How do you think I know?” Clark asked, unable to prevent himself from rolling his eyes. “When I went to Redding, I found out from them that the shipment never went missing. When I confronted Porter about it, he told me everything.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Well then...'' Antonio muttered as he pressed his lips together. “Guess i'll be paying him a visit when we get back.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Why? I’m the only other person who knows and I’m as good as dead, aren't I? What would threatening him some more do exactly?” Clark asked, tilting his head. “Unless you were planning to try and use this to get another shipment out of him and fuck Cottonwood again.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Hey.” Steve ground out. “We bust our asses getting the traders their goods every week, risking our lives, Hell, Colin nearly <em> died </em> when his boat capsized. No one appreciates what we do, so yeah, we took the Sacramento shipment so we’d be okay for a little while whilst we recouped, but nobody got hurt.”</p><p> </p><p>“Right. Nobody got hurt.” Clark nodded. “I can imagine it's easier to justify your actions when you think you have the moral high ground.”</p><p> </p><p><br/>
Steve shook his head. “Fuck me, this is a shit show…” He brought his hand to his face. “Toni, this needs to end. Now.”<br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>“You have a gun, too.” Antonio said, though he didn’t lower his.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“That’s not what I meant.” Steve said softly.</p><p> </p><p><br/>
“Really? You’re getting cold feet? <em> Now? </em> ” He ground out. “When I told you about the money, both of you were all for it, but now that we have the mer literally in our hands, you wanna walk away?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“I thought we’d just take it. When you shot your gun, maybe there was a reason the bullet missed. We’re being given a second chance here. Tom we can maybe argue was self defense, but this would be murder.” Steve edged a few steps closer to Antonio, gingerly offering his hand. “You don't want to be a murderer, do you Toni?”</p><p> </p><p>Antonio groaned. “You really think we can just<em> leave </em> ? After what we’ve done, after what he knows?” He asked incredulously. “We <em> can’t </em> let him live.”</p><p> </p><p>He could hear Colin sobbing off to his side, could see the way Steve’s shoulders slumped in submission as his hand lowered. Antonio eyed him, and Clark knew what was coming next. “Sorry, Kent.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Wait.” Clark said, holding up his hand, and surprisingly, Antonio obliged. “I want to give you the best odds possible.” He said, walking up to him, Antonio flinched, but didn't shoot. “Put the barrel in here,” Clark said as he pointed to his mouth. “That way you can't miss.”</p><p> </p><p>“What?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark tilted his head. “What? Getting cold feet?” He smiled, opening his mouth. “Come on, do it.”</p><p> </p><p>Antonio’s heart was hammering, and the rain was coming down so thick he could hardly see the world around him anymore. Yet, through the sound of rumbling thunder high above, he still made out the shaky breath Antonio let out. “You're a sick man, Kent.” He muttered.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark felt the bullet not a moment later.</p><p> </p><p>He had hoped to catch it in his teeth, but it ended up hitting the back of his throat. He gave a choked gasp as he fell back into the sand. The ringing was back in full force, and yet through it he still made out Colin sobbing, as well as Steve letting out a single sigh. “Fuck me, Toni...”</p><p><br/>
“It's done.” He said, putting his gun away. “Now come on, let’s move the mer.”</p><p> </p><p>Clark lay there a moment longer before sitting up. He rubbed his throat as he tried to work the bullet up back into his mouth. Steve and Antonio were so focused on the mer, that it was only as Colin screamed that they took notice of Clark very much still alive on the floor. He waved at them before reaching into his mouth and pulling out the bullet. </p><p> </p><p>“What the fuck. What the fuck!” Steve yelled, stumbling away. “What are you-- what is happening?” He whirled on Antonio. “Shoot him again!”</p><p> </p><p>Antonio pulled his gun out, and pointed it at Clark. His hands shook so badly that the first bullet ended up in the sand, and only the second caught Clark in the chest. It bounced off and landed not too far from his feet. What followed was a moment of silence so profound that it felt as though even the rain and wind stopped to allow it to permeate. </p><p> </p><p>The men all stared at where the bullet landed. “Oh, good God.” Antonio muttered.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Did I not mention I could do that?” Clark asked, as he stood up and looked down at his shirt. He ran his finger along the hole now there. “I’m bulletproof.” He said, with the same ease one might confirm their name. “Back in Metropolis they used to call me the Man of Steel for that very reason.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“The man of--” Antonio sputtered as he dropped the gun. “You’re, you’re--”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Superman?” Clark finished for him. “Yeah… yeah, I am.” As he took in the sight of the men before him, Clark let out a sigh. “Now, with that out of the way, lets talk.” He held his hand out towards their boat, and without any other prompting the men walked towards it.</p><p> </p><p>Clark followed them, casting his eyes down to the mer still on the floor. He wanted to release him but given who was still on the island, Clark reluctantly left him for now and climbed on board the boat. He recognized it. He had been on it before, back when he rescued the mer, and he followed the men below deck.</p><p> </p><p>It was quieter down here, with the hull doing a good job of muffling the wind and rain. It was also a nice space, fitted with a bar and some plush seating. Clark took the liberty of sitting on the large couch in the middle of the room, leaning into the soft cushions. “Now then. You have one minute to tell me why I shouldn’t throw you into the water.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Please, we’re sorry.'' Colin let out, falling to the floor by Clark’s feet. “We shouldn't have done it, but we were desperate, please--”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Not you.” Clark said, shaking his head. He brought his hand up and pointed a single finger at Antonio. “I'm much more curious about what you’ll say.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
In the time walking from the beach, Antonio seemed to get a better hold of himself, and only jerked his head up in defiance at Clark’s request. He sat down on one of the arm chairs and leant back. “Why should I bother?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark tilted his head. “I dunno, is your life enough of an incentive?”</p><p> </p><p>“You won’t kill me.” Antonio said firmly. “Superman doesn’t kill.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Yeah, you are right about that…” Clark said, tenting his hands. “But I'm not Superman anymore, and I haven't been for a while.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Still.” Antonio said, though this time Clark could hear the quiver returning to his voice. “You have morals.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Do I though?” Clark said, frowning. “You know what I did the day Metropolis fell?” He eyed the men around him, and smiled mirthlessly. “I let a whole city drown. I flew away whilst thousands called out to me to save them and I ignored them all.” Clark felt his eyes burn with tears and he looked away. He took a breath and after composing himself, he went on. “You think I'd have any issue doing that again with you three?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Please.'' Steve said, remaining in the middle of the room, his hands held out as though to placate them both. “We can solve this without any bloodshed.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“There wouldn’t be blood.” Clark said listlessly. “Well, not unless the mers showed up…”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh God…” Colin let out, curling his hands into his eyes. “Please, no, this is not happening… this is not happening…”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Okay, well, you haven't dumped us in the water yet, so,” Antonio said, crossing his arms. “Clearly, you don’t want us dead. So why not? What do you want from us?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“What do I want?” Clark asked, raising a brow. “Well, that's easy. I want you to never come to my island again, and if you even think about touching my mer again, I will throw you into the middle of the ocean and watch you drown.”</p><p> </p><p>Antonio nodded slowly at that, whilst Steve and Colin’s were far more frantic. “And?” Antonio asked coolly.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Marcos. You give him back his knife and if you <em> ever </em> tell Salvator what happened, I will find your homes and crush them into rubble.” Clark said, looking back down at his hands. “And if you threaten Porter or his mer to try and get another shipment out of him, or because of what he told me, I will throw your boats into the sun.”</p><p> </p><p>There was silence for a good while, only punctuated by the occasional sob or burst of rain against the hull. When Clark eyed the men before him, only Antonio returned it. “Anything else?”</p><p> </p><p>He thought of Tom, of Elyss hanging up in that archway and pressed his lips together. He could try and get them their justice, as simply looking at Colin told him that he’d need only say the word for him to repeat everything he had been told on the beach, but given that the evidence was all but destroyed and that, as Colin had already stated, Antonio could shift the blame easily thanks to Carla, he simple shrugged. “If I think of anything, i'll let you know.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Well, then.” Antonio got up. “I think we’re done here.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark got up too, but as he was about to leave, another thought came to him and he eyed Antonio. “So Elijah really didn’t send you?” When he looked away from Clark’s inquisitive gaze, Clark’s eyes narrowed. “And don't think of lying.”</p><p> </p><p>“He really didn’t.'' Steve said for him, rubbing the back of his neck as he let out a sign. “We sort of have a ‘don't ask don't tell’ policy with him. We get him mers, and don't tell him how we got them, and he doesn't ask.”</p><p> </p><p>“He did want your mer.” Antonio said slowly. “But, he didn’t know we were doing this, no.”</p><p> </p><p>Clark looked around at them, and when he felt he could verify what he heard from their heartbeats, he shrugged his shoulders. “Good enough for me.” He said. “If I wasn’t clear with my earlier request, no more dealing with him either. I don't care if you find five hundred black fins, you trade him mers; i'll come for you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Understood.” Steve said, sending a nod his way. He approached Antonio and rested his hand on his elbow. “Now.” He said softly. “Let's get going.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
As Clark stepped off the boat, he stayed standing in the rain and watched them sail away. Even as their boat became a dot along the horizon, he could still feel their presence like it was a weight across his shoulders. He closed his eyes and let the rain wash over him, hoping it would take with it every scrap of dirt he felt like was now festering on his skin. </p><p> </p><p>Maybe this <em> was </em> all a dream. Maybe in the morning everything will have been washed away by the rain and wind and he could go on pretending everything was okay.</p><p> </p><p>He knew that wouldn’t happen, but it was nice to imagine that it would, if only for a moment.</p><p> </p><p>He then turned to the only other person here with him. Clark grimaced as he took in the sight. The mer was still unconscious on the ground, so Clark scooped him up gently before bringing him back to the cabin, only to be reminded of the state the place was in. </p><p> </p><p>As there wasn’t exactly an extensive list of alternate places Clark could go, he turned around and went towards his boat. It was cramped, but at least it was dry.</p><p> </p><p>In the small bedroom, he set the mer down on the cot and began the process of freeing him. He started with the muzzle, and then eased off the blindfold. As he did, he saw the mers eyes flutter open and Clark let out a choked gasp. </p><p> </p><p><br/>
The mer gave the faintest of whines, and Clark didn’t even think as he ripped the rest of the restraints off of him. “Jesus, you’re--” he blurted, his eyes burning with the threat of tears. “You’re <em> awake </em>?”</p><p> </p><p>The mer gave another faint whine, and Clark listened to that heart beat once more. It was so slow he could have been forgiven for thinking it had stopped all together, but that didn’t matter to the mer who apparently through all the sedatives, was still conscious. He’d been awake the whole time and Clark let out a shaky breath at the thought. He reached for the mers face, gently smoothing away the hair swept across it. “Shh, it's okay, I'm okay, you’re okay…”</p><p> </p><p>Tears sprung from the mers eyes as he gave a few more faint whines, and Clark leant in close, pressing his forehead against his. “Shh…” he murmured. “I got you, no ones gonna hurt you… I’m sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>The mer tried to move, but the tranquilizer was doing at least part of its job and his movements were slurred and stilted. Still, he managed to get a hand around Clark’s neck, holding him there pressed up against him. He tried to speak, but all that came out was a series of broken chirps that ended with a reedy breath.</p><p> </p><p><br/>
“You’re okay… I’m okay…” Clark repeated over and over until they no longer felt like words. As he said it, he wondered if he were doing it for his own benefit, as the longer he thought about what had happened the more the idea of what <em> could </em> have happened dawned on him. He’d have been killed. The mer would have been dragged away to who knows what fate and Clark would have been left to rot on his island. Would anyone have found him? Or would he have remained there until he was nothing more than dust and bone? </p><p> </p><p>There was a time in Clark’s life where he cursed his immortality, but right in this moment, he thanked every God he knew that he was able to survive this night.</p><p> </p><p>As he repeated his mantra, the mers eyes slowly drifted closed. Clark waited to see if that heartbeat would continue on, and when it did, only then did Clark pull back and take a deep breath. </p><p> </p><p>The storm was still pounding against the boat and land, but Clark didn’t care if his cabin was ruined. Didn’t even care if it was pulled up out of the dirt and destroyed. All he cared about was that the mer was safe. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <em> He’s safe, B̶̨̩̹͍̰̥̖̬͖̘͚̂͘ͅ-̵̳͍̄̏̑̃̒̍̋̋́̈͐͐̇̔̒̕̚-̸̢̡͖̙̹̲̳̺̹̰̄̅̄̓̓̆̒͊͝-̵̖̦͛̒͐̀͛̓̏͂͊̔͠-̵̨̘̣̝̬͈̹̥̩͍̊ is safe. </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>He paused. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> B?  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The thought took him aback, as as he focused on it he could feel that there was more hiding there, but for some reason the only thing that he could hear was that letter. But why? He watched the mer closely, looking at his gentle features and slowly, the letter became louder and louder, as though a force of nature in and of itself, one that took a hold of Clark’s mind and refused to relinquish its hold. </p><p> </p><p>He didn’t want to admit it, but the more he thought about that thought, the more he felt as if he knew the answer to his own question.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I could… I could name him… </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em><strike> A name?</strike>  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Clark jolted at the thought. <em> No. A name would be too much. </em>His mind asserted.</p><p> </p><p><em> But... Would it be? </em> The fragile minority implored.</p><p> </p><p>It was as he sat and watched the mers sleeping face that he realised what he had been doing was fruitless, that no amount of distancing or self control would prevent what he was now feeling. It was a certainty, and no amount of denial would change that. </p><p> </p><p>He took a deep breath and lay down next to the mer. He closed his eyes and tried to let sleep take him, but he was no longer tired, his mind was alive with thought and in the end, he simply lay there next to the mer, and watched over him until the first streaks of sunlight touched the sky.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. WE'RE GETTING INTO IT NOW, BUDDY.</p><p>But srsly, fuck Antonio. </p><p>There is so much to get into about this chapter, but I will just summarize by saying. My poor baby Blue T^T</p><p>Also I hope y'all enjoy the art work I did! If you would like to see more of it or maybe just want to come say hi, the link to my tumblr is:  <a href="https://batman-katflap.tumblr.com/">Batman-Katflap</a> I'm trying to use it more as I sort of left it alone for a very long time, but I'm hoping now to get back into it. If you would like to see another piece I did for the fic, head on over to chapter 12. I just embedded it today, so if it worked you should see some Blue/Clark cuteness :D </p><p>Anyway, that is all for this update! I hope you all enjoyed and as always lemme know what you thought! Until next time! :3 x</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Chapter 18</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> July 28th 2016 </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Somewhere between the dawn and morning, Clark must have drifted off. He knew this as he had no recollection of the time passing, but also knew it must have occurred if the sun now filtering in through the small window above was anything to go by. </p><p> </p><p>He stared at the light for a while longer, watching as particles of dust danced in it until he became lost in their movement. Eventually however, he turned to the mer to see if he too were awake, and sure enough, he was.</p><p><br/><br/>Those bright eyes were trained on him, watching him fervently. Clark felt a faint smile pull on his lips the longer he looked back. “Mornin’.”</p><p> </p><p>And that was all it took.</p><p><br/><br/>The mer lunged at him, pushing Clark down into the bed as he practically assaulted his face by rubbing his checks across it. Clark was frozen as the mer nuzzled him, and whilst under normal circumstances he might have been confused, this morning he couldn’t help but share the sentiments.</p><p><br/><br/>“Hey, hey.” He muttered as the mer kept nuzzling, his chirps and whines spilling from his mouth like an endless drip of water. Clark reached for his shoulders, pushing him back to stare into those eyes again. “I’m okay, how are you?”</p><p> </p><p>The mer made a face of incredulity, and swiped at Clark’s hands until he let go. Clark obliged with an eye roll, and the mer resumed his nuzzling. Clark wondered how long it would go on for, but eventually the mer slowed his movements, until he simply lay on top of Clark, his hands curling around his head, entangled in his hair.</p><p> </p><p>Clark knew he couldn’t move without having to also move the mer shaped mollusc now attached to him, but he tried. He sat up and even though the mer grumbled, Clark simply brought his hands around his torso, pulling him in close. “Come on, now. We need to go inside.” Though Clark couldn't help but grimace as he said the words. His cabin must be in a dreadful state, but there was no use in delaying the inevitable. He had to deal with it sooner or later.</p><p> </p><p>The mer however, was still adamant in not moving and when he pulled back to look up at Clark, he chirped and whined some more. Clark couldn’t gather the meaning of these sounds, and sure enough, his confusion must have been obvious as the mer pulled one of his hands free from Clark’s hair, and ran it across his temple, trialing that area of skin over and over again. Clark swallowed thickly.</p><p> </p><p>“I told you.” He said softly, taking that hand and squeezing it gently. “I’m okay. I didn’t get hurt.”</p><p> </p><p>Despite the clear trepidation on his expression, the mer chose not to argue through the medium of chirps and instead chose to resume his earlier clinging. Clark tried to prevent the smile from coming onto his face, and he only managed it when he remembered what he had told himself. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Thoughts are okay, so long as you never let it get beyond that. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Right. Thoughts are fine… Just don’t. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Don’t what? What exactly was he doing right now? Holding the mer, and stroking his hair as the mer refused to let go of him. Were these still thoughts?</p><p><br/>Could it ever go back to just being thought?</p><p> </p><p>No, they couldn’t and Clark felt the last of his resolve crumble at that realisation.</p><p> </p><p>It was liberating in a way, to simply accept what was about to happen. There was nothing he could have done about it. Not really.</p><p> </p><p>He lifted the mer with ease, readjusting in him in his arms once stood, and despite the protests, carried him back to the cabin, taking care to set him on the bed as gently as he could once there.</p><p> </p><p>He was right. The place was a disaster zone. Despite the sun now shining, it hadn’t been out for long and as such the room was still musty with damp. Sand almost covered the wooden floors, and all of his furniture was somewhere between ‘bad’ and ‘completely ruined’. He didn’t care though, in this moment, he had more pressing things on his mind.</p><p><br/>As Clark sat alongside the mer, he realised he didn’t know what he was doing. He thought he had known, but the longer he looked at the mer, the more Clark could feel his mind breaking at the seams, his thoughts going off in every direction, leaving him lost in the middle, unsure which one to follow.</p><p> </p><p><br/>There was one telling him to walk away. <strike> <em> You still have that option.</em></strike></p><p>
  
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>There was one telling him to put him back in the water. <strike> <em> You don’t have to do this.</em></strike></p><p> </p><p><br/>There was one telling him to just kiss him. <strike><em>Don't do it.</em></strike><em> Do it.</em></p><p> </p><p>Clark felt his breath coming out shallow and fast. He didn’t know why, but as he sat there, that final trail of thought seemed to lodge itself in his mind, making it feel as though what he was about to do was inevitable, as though every second since he saw him on the beach was leading him to this moment. Each step leading him here. To him.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strike> <em> Don't do it. </em> </strike>
</p><p> </p><p>He leant forward, his mouth parting slightly. For a moment, the mer didn’t respond, though he did let out a breath as Clark’s lips pressed gently against his own. </p><p> </p><p>The mers eyes flickered shut, his hands reached for Clark. He set them on his shoulders so gently Clark could barely feel them through his shirt. </p><p> </p><p>
  
</p><p> </p><p>His lips were so soft, like plush silk and as Clark felt himself wanting to press onward, the rational part of his brain wrangled back control for a brief moment. He jolted back, before sitting there in stunned silence, unable to comprehend what he had just done. He felt his eyes water. “God fucking damn it.” He said, before burying his face in his hands.</p><p> </p><p>Why? Why was this happening to him? He thought he was a good person, but apparently not if this was how God treated him. </p><p> </p><p>
  <br/>
  <strike> <em> Not God. You did this.  </em> </strike>
</p><p> </p><p>It was then that he felt it. That gentle touch again, so soft, on the small of his back. He looked up from his hands, his stare going to the only other person in the room with him.<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>The mer looked from Clark’s face to his own hand, to his own body. Was that sadness on his face? Did he understand what this meant for them? Or was he just as lost as Clark felt.</p><p> </p><p><br/>“You’re a mer. We-- <em>I</em> shouldn’t be doing this.” Clark said, his voice sounding so loud in the silence around him. “And yet…” he clasped his hands together with finality. “Here I am.”</p><p> </p><p>There was no response. Clark knew there wasn’t going to be one. Would never be one. No matter how long he waited. </p><p> </p><p>That thought alone made the first tear fall. </p><p> </p><p>“I have no idea why you’re here. Why you keep coming back to me. Maybe it's ‘cause you’re like me. Alone.” He wiped his face. “That makes me feel a little better. The idea that you’re here because you want to be, and not because this is all some sort of game to you and I am the long awaited prize for your patience.” He huffed a breath, chancing a look at the other. “But I can’t prove that, I can't prove that without risking everything.”</p><p> </p><p>He took a deep breath. “If I get in that water, and you pull me down.” Clark looked at the wall, unable to look the mer in the eye. “This ends.”</p><p> </p><p>Clark brought his head into his hands, covering his eyes. He shook his head from side to side as he muttered under his breath. “But even if you don't try to pull me down, what does that prove? That you feel the same? Or just that you don’t want me dead?” He couldn’t help it, he sobbed. “No, it proves nothing. I don't know what is going on in that mind of yours. Why do you stay with me? <em> Why? </em>” Though the question was for the mer, he only asked it to himself.</p><p> </p><p>The mer didn’t speak, didn’t make a single noise as his hand continued to run across Clark’s back before finding its way to his head, running its way through his hair. Clark hated it. Hated how nice it felt. He couldn’t help but lean into the touch.</p><p><br/><br/>He sat upright, and turned to the mer. He was still watching him with that same sombre expression and Clark realised how much he hated seeing it. Just as much as seeing those tear filled eyes from the night before. He never wanted to see the mer look like that ever again, he realised. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>He took a breath, and pressed his forehead against the mers. He stared into those eyes; so bright, so clear. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <em> B̶̢̨̝͚͔͕͓͍̜̙̜͕͕̠͇̲̝̪̍͐̌̎̒͗͘͜ͅ-̵̢̛̼̖͈̹͉̙̎̆͂͌̿̎͒̽̈́̽̒̓̓̅͋̓̋͒̉̓͠-̶̡̡̩̥͇̜̺̱̟̤̦̜͍͍̫̥̟̱͙̭͆̎͋̂̈́͂̓̈́͛̽̋̓̈́͘͘͜͝͝͝ͅ-̴̨̦̯̥̤̝͙̞̮̋͑-̸̡̛͎̗͈̥̼̭͖̹̫̪̘̦̦́͑̌̂̋̀̃̌̈͐̇̌̾̑̐̆͑̚̚͘͜͝ </em>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>That same thought from yesterday, that same letter. The longer he looked, the louder it became.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strike> <em> A name?</em></strike>
</p><p> </p><p>That was it; a way to make this feel okay with all of this.</p><p><br/><br/>If the mer was just using him; he could use him right back.</p><p> </p><p>So what if he didn’t care about him? So what if he was doing all this just to kill him? What guilt should he feel about taking advantage of that? None, Clark realised. None at all.</p><p><br/><br/>He pulled away, his eyes boring into the mers.</p><p> </p><p>As he stared at the mer a single word left his mouth. “Blue.” He muttered. “I’m gonna call you Blue.” Blue like his eyes. His skin. “Blue.” He repeated. </p><p> </p><p>It felt right to call him something other than mer, and though the name didn’t quite fit for whatever reason, it suited him well enough.</p><p><br/><br/>Blue didn’t respond with words to Clark, though he did chirp softly as he pressed forward, his lips going for Clark’s once more, resting them against his, just as Clark had done. </p><p> </p><p><em>Yes. </em> Clark felt his mind grow calm. <em> Somehow this feels better </em>.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> <strike>You named him.</strike> </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I did. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strike> <em> You’re going to regret this. </em> </strike>
</p><p> </p><p><em> No. </em> He thought as he pushed Blue down onto the bed, his lips making their way across his check, peppering the skin with kisses. <em> I won’t. This is how it will be, how it has to be. </em></p><p> </p><p><em><br/></em> <strike> <em> I truly wonder what did it. Insanity or loneliness. Perhaps the former. After all, you had me, Clark. You always had me. </em> </strike></p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Lois, please… </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Clark jerked away, a cold sweat coming over him. His stomach convulsed and thought it was empty, bile dribbled from his mouth out onto the floor beside where they laid. He gasped for air and in trying to find it, caught a glimpse of the mer’s panic stricken face.</p><p> </p><p><br/>He reached for him, his hand gingerly trailing down Clark’s check, before resting along his jaw. </p><p> </p><p>His earlier suspicion quietened down as he watched Blue touch him with such gentleness.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <em> Why…? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Why is he doing this?  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>But the voice didn’t respond.</p><p> </p><p>Clark didn’t know what to think. His mind was on fire and the longer he looked at Blue the stronger those flames grew.</p><p> </p><p><br/>“I can’t…” Clark stood up, and despite there not being any room in his cabin, he tried to walk away, only to be stopped by the turned over desk and toppled chair. “I just… I can’t do this right now.” He said, turning to the mer. “This is a lot to take in. I’m sorry...”</p><p> </p><p>Clark didn’t hang around. He knew it was a bad idea to walk away, and yet he seemed to only be capable of bad ideas today, so it did little to stop him. He walked back outside, and immediately turned and headed off towards the trees. He didn’t have an idea of where he was going at first, and yet his feet must have made the choice for him as he eventually made his way to the meadow.</p><p> </p><p>Why was he here? To twist the knife further? He should go back, he could hear the mer calling for him, but even if he were to yell, Blue wouldn't be able to hear Clark from here.</p><p> </p><p>No, here he was alone; alone with the only person he had ever loved.</p><p> </p><p>He approached the graves, and lowered himself down, staring at the plaques on the floor. His vision grew blurred and he knew the moment he blinked, the tears would fall. So he didn’t, he simply kept his eyes trained on the words written on the wood, and even as the tears slid down his cheeks, he didn’t blink. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Ẅ̴̧̙͔̺͉̪̹͙̹̬̘̦̰̲͖̬͈͓̥͙͕̜͍́̈́͗͆̾̎̓̍̾͗ḣ̵̼̱̮̖͎̥̝̻͈̝̞͜ͅę̴̢̼͉͍͕̝̬̜̪̯͍̦͖̟̻̰͖̝̝̺̐̈́̐̇̌̈́͆͋̈̐̐̉̋̂̓̀̐̕̚͘͝͠ͅŗ̵̢̠̻͓̮̘̲͈̣̩̹̼̲̲̜̳̩̞͊͌͋̐̽̔͜ë̴̛̛͕͖̬̙̼͇͓̞̠̪͖̯̬̬͚͙̣̫̜̲̎̈̉̂͒̚͝ͅ ̷̛͈̟̱͈̬̹͑̿̈́̂̓̄͛̓̎̒̃̅̀̌̄̌̿̔̒̇͝ǻ̷̡̢̭̥̰̘̙̯͔̖̙̟̭̣͉͎̞̦͆͛͛̓̍̄̒̈̀̌̍̀̓̚ͅr̴͉̲̼̗͎͙̫̻͓̞̯͇̎̿͗͗̎̓͂̇͐̈́͂͒̓́͂͐̀̚͜͠͝͝͝è̶̡̛̖̺͓̼͎͂́̾̐̆̋̇̌̐͒̚ ̴̡̧̬̞̼̟̟͔̝͖͓̹̖̬͕͍͚͖̟̝́̌̇̅͗̋̔̇͂͐͂̚͜y̷͔̟̘̝͙͍̌̌͝o̴̘̘͔͉̻͇̙͚̩̓̒̿͗͘u̶̡̢̹͍͖͕̯̙͎̲̺̜̘̿̑͌̋̑͌̔̉́̃̾̒̅͒͋̏̇̎͘͜͠͠͝?̶̨̡̥̗̭̣͇̳̥̱̟̘͇̾̊̊̓̓̈́̋̑̌͝͠</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>His head throbbed, and he took a sharp breath. Why was he doing this to himself? Why couldn’t he just move on?</p><p> </p><p>
  <strike> Clark? </strike>
</p><p> </p><p>He eventually closed his eyes, and despite waking up only minutes ago, felt a haze of sleep wash over him.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>C̸̡̢͉͇̪̼̼̥͎͍̲͈̩̙̱̘̹͛͂͛̄̆̒ͅl̴̢̛̟̉̀̌̋̒̎͌́̅̈̽̌̒͌́̈́̌͂͝a̸̧̢̨̩̩̰̜͚̩͎̻̖͎̜̻̗̼̲̳̝̽̇̐̈̈͒͗̉͒͗̄͋͑͐͌̕ŗ̴̡̢͎̮̻̪̺̱̩̣̮͔͈̟̘͓͈̄͒́̊̾̂̊̉̑́͗̚͝͝k̶̢̢̡̞̬̲̯͕͓͈͕̪͍̳̯̣̙͕̼͒̂͜͝?̴̙͈̞̜̟̤̫͔̙̥͓͕̈́͛̎̿</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <strike> Where are you? </strike>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <strike> Clark? </strike>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <strike> Are you in here? </strike>
</p><p> </p><p>“Clark?”</p><p> </p><p>There was a knock at the bathroom door, and Clark pulled his toothbrush from his mouth. “It’s open.” He called out through the minty foam.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.” The door opened not a moment later, and Lois poked her head in. “Are you nearly ready?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, yeah.” Clark said in between swipes of the toothbrush. He glanced at his watch and saw they had plenty of time. “You’re in a hurry today.”</p><p> </p><p>Lois pressed her lips together. “Perry said there would be cake at the office.”</p><p><br/><br/>Clark laughed, nearly choking on the toothpaste. “I didn’t realise cake was that big of a motivator for you.”<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>Lois smiled at that. “It usually isn’t but God, the baby is making me crave sweet things, like crazy.” She looked down at her bump, bringing her hands to it. “And the point still remains, I want to get there early to eat my fill of cake, and then sit at my desk and do nothing for the day.”</p><p> </p><p>Clark bent over and spit out the toothpaste. He rinsed his mouth and approached Lois at the door. “What a wonderful way to spend your birthday.” He said as he set his hands on either side of her stomach.</p><p><br/><br/>“Hey, I can’t drink, and I can’t even stay up past eight before I start to feel sleepy. Cake is all I have.”</p><p><br/><br/>“I did get some fish in for dinner tonight, so we can at least have a nice meal to celebrate.” At Lois’ grimace, he continued. “I also got you the biggest gateau I could find.”</p><p><br/><br/>Lois gave a sly smile. “Good boy.” She whispered as she stood up on her tiptoes and placed a soft kiss against his lips. She then made her way over to the shoe rail and picked up her loafers before going to the couch and falling into the cushions with a sigh. “I swear once my maternity starts I’m going to become one with this couch. I can see it now, just two more months and then it’s me and this bad boy till the end.”</p><p><br/><br/>“If you sit on it till your due date you really will become one with it.” Without another word, Clark took the shoes from her hand and crouched down to put them on for her. </p><p> </p><p>She crossed her arms and raised her foot to Clark. “Not with my personal servant I won’t. Considering<em> you </em> did this to me, hoisting me up from the sofa every evening is getting off lightly.”</p><p><br/><br/>“True.'' Clark said, slipping on the shoe before reaching for the other foot. “Though it does beg the question of what your last servent died of.”</p><p><br/><br/>Lois swatted his head for that, to which Clark only grinned. He stood up then and after a quick burst around the apartment, returned to her, dressed and ready. “Alright, you good to go?”</p><p><br/><br/>She eyed him for a second before holding her hands up, Clark took them and gently eased her to her feet. “You'd think after all this time, i’d be used to the super powers by now, but nope.” She shook her head. “Still crazy.”</p><p><br/><br/>“You know when the baby’s born there is going to be two of us, right?'' Clark smiled, leaning in close and kissing her forehead. “Another little kryptonian running around the place...”</p><p><br/><br/>“Oh God, don’t remind me…” She muttered. “But hey, maybe he’ll be human, you don't know.” She looked up at him, her eyes bright with hope. “Maybe he will just crawl around and I won't have to worry about him flying through the apartment.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure Lois, sure.” Clark said before slipping on his own shoes. “Now come on, the cake’s awaiting.”</p><p> </p><p>The drive over was like it always was, there was traffic, but they didn’t have to sit in it for too long. After Clark parked the car and helped Lois from it, and they made their way upstairs and upon opening the doors to the office, streamers flew towards them as well as the voices of their colleagues. “Happy birthday, Lois!”</p><p> </p><p>Within seconds, Lois started to cry as she approached her desk. “You guys…” She sobbed. It was a rare sight to see Lois cry, but with the baby, her emotions were as turbulent as ever and this morning was no exception.</p><p> </p><p>After setting her bag down she approached the table in the middle of the room, and looked at her cake. It had already been divided into portions, with some having already been taken, but the part that held the words ‘Happy Birthday Lois!’ was intact. Lois tilted her head at it, and all at once the tears stopped.</p><p> </p><p>“Coconut, Perry?” Lois sighed “You got <em> coconut </em> ?”</p><p><br/><br/>Perry pulled the fork from his mouth, his face awash with dismay. “But you love coconut!”</p><p><br/><br/>“Yeah, not at the moment she doesn’t.'' Clark said, side stepping her and picking himself up a piece for himself. He took a bite. It was nice, if a little sweet.</p><p><br/><br/>“Food aversions, eh?” Perry nodded sagely. “Alice had the same thing with Jerry. Wouldn’t touch chicken for months.” He sighed. “Worst part was I was gonna go for chocolate but at the last second I changed the order. Sorry Lois, next baby i'll remember.”<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>“<em>Next </em> baby?'' Clark sputtered, a few flecks of cake coming out of his mouth. “Perry, the <em> first </em> baby isn't even here yet.”</p><p><br/><br/>He swatted his hand at Clark. “Please, I know you two, after the first one you’re gonna go baby mad. I can see you having five, at least.”</p><p><br/><br/>“<em>Five? </em>” Lois and Clark said at the same time. </p><p> </p><p>“I see it too, to be honest.'' Jimmy said, looking thoughtful as he took another bite. “Five little Lois and Clark’s running around the place.”</p><p><br/><br/>Clark grimaced. He was just about able to wrap his head around one baby thanks to seeing Dinah for the past few months, but even he was sure she wasn’t capable of convincing him he’d be able to handle <em> five </em>kids. When he noticed Lois’ concerned stare on him, he put on his best smile. “I think we’re good with one baby for now.”</p><p> </p><p>“Exactly.” Lois said, and despite her earlier complaints she took a plate of cake, though only picked at the frosting.<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>“I dunno.” Jimmy said, leaning back in his chair. “In my head you gotta have at least three. One child is just gonna get lonely.”</p><p> </p><p>“Can we maybe not talk about this right now?” Clark said, and despite his best efforts his voice came out high and reedy. “I mean, just that it’s Lois’ birthday and the baby isn’t even due for another--”</p><p><br/><br/>“No, no.” Lois said softly, bringing her hand to the small of his back. “I agree, I'm gonna hear nothing but baby talk right up until he’s born, so i'd rather talk about other things on my birthday if it's all the same to you guys.”</p><p><br/><br/>Clark took a deep breath, and thankfully conversation turned to other things. Once the cake was finished and Perry good will for the day started to dwindle, they were back at their desks, though Lois did indeed fulfill her promise to do nothing and Clark joined her, not because he had nothing to do, but because it was a rare treat to enjoy his wife's company at work. Either they'd both be busy or one would have an assignment in need of their attention, and even on the occasions they were both free, Perry would be out of his office like a shot if he noticed a quiet spell. Today however, was a rare opportunity where Perry was being slightly more lax towards them and Clark took full advantage of it.</p><p> </p><p>Clark opened his desk and pulled out a packet of marshmallows. There were other packets of candy within, but he knew Lois was in a marshmallow mood today and sure enough the moment he waved the packet, she turned her head at the sound, ignoring the game of solitaire she was currently playing and gasped. “No way. You have marshmallows?”</p><p><br/><br/>“Yup.” Clark said, opening the packet and handing her one. They were large, like apples, and she immediately brought it to her lips and bit down on it.</p><p> </p><p>She moaned. “God, these are <em> so </em> good.” She paused her chewing, her eyes narrowing at him. “How did you know I wanted marshmallows?”</p><p><br/><br/>“You’re my wife, Lois.” He said, resting his head on his hand and watching her.</p><p><br/><br/>She finished the first marshmallow and reached for another. “Still, <em> I </em> didn’t even know I wanted marshmallows until I saw them.”</p><p><br/><br/>“It's one of my superpowers.” Clark said instead, and Lois rolled her eyes.</p><p><br/><br/>“Don’t say that, I might actually believe you.”</p><p><br/><br/>“Who says i'm lying?'' Clark said, smiling. </p><p> </p><p>Lois shook her head with a smile, and reached for another marshmallow.</p><p> </p><p>As Clark looked back at this moment, he wondered how everything went so wrong from here. How could it have happened on today of all days. Surely, the world could have chosen another time to end. Any other day of the year, at any other place in the world even. But no, it chose today, and as Clark watches his wife eat her last marshmallow, he knows his world will be ending soon enough.</p><p> </p><p>A rumble struck the office, and Clark was up like a shot. He went to Lois and covered her head as he looked up at the ceiling. Despite the movement, nothing crashed down. Even the windows held steady and Clark let out a breath. The room was now alive with voices and Perry burst from his office. “Earthquake!” He yelled.</p><p><br/><br/>But the rumble was already gone, and Jimmy was the one to call out to him above the smattering of voices. “Little late on the draw on that one, Perry.”</p><p><br/><br/>Perry rolled his eyes. “I want everyone to be prepared in case--”</p><p><br/><br/>But Perry didn’t get to finish his sentence. Another rumble hit, stronger than the first and Lois gasped as her chair jolted to the side, Clark stopped her from falling over and as a panel from the ceiling came down, he swatted it away before it could hit her. Perry yelled ‘Brace!’ through the chaos and Clark watched as his coworkers did just that and scrambled under their desks. He held Lois’ steady and nothing more seemed to fall even as the rumble kept going.</p><p> </p><p>Once the movement had stopped, he could hear the panicked sobs throughout the room, could see Lois’ face devoid of colour before him. She turned her head to him, her eyes wide. “Is that it?” She asked quietly.</p><p> </p><p>Clark however could barely hear her. His ears were in the bay, and the sound of a roaring wave hit him. “Tsunami.” He muttered.</p><p><br/>Lois’ mouth fell open, and Clark reached for her hands. “Brace under the desk, I’ll change and then come back for you.”</p><p><br/><br/>“No, i'll be fine here, just focus on everyone else.” She said, already easing herself off her seat. </p><p> </p><p>Clark looked to her, and despite the brave expression she put on, he could see her hands clinging to her stomach. Clark swallowed. “Fuck it. I'll get you out now.”</p><p><br/><br/>“No!” She said firmly. “I'll be fine here. Now go! The city needs Superman right now, Lois Lane can wait.” </p><p> </p><p>As people slowly peaked out from their desks, Clark ran past them all. Ignoring their calls, he got to the stairway. Despite the quakes, there were people already there trying to go downstairs. Clark yelled to them as he ran. “Tsunami. Get to the upper floors.”</p><p><br/><br/>“What?” One of them asked. “How do you know?”</p><p><br/><br/>“I just do, okay?” He yelled. “Now go upstairs!”</p><p> </p><p>Once at the bottom he found the front desk and ignored the complaints of the receptionist as he reached for the microphone. He switched it on. “Tsunami incoming, everyone get to the upper floors now. This is not a drill.” He set the microphone down, and with only a look to the receptionist still hunkered underneath the desk, she started to move, scrambling out from her spot and rushing to the stairway.</p><p> </p><p>He could hear movement throughout the building. People had heeded his warning. Now it was time to focus on everyone else. He rushed from the building.</p><p> </p><p>He changed into his suit not a moment later, and despite the rumbling of the wave ever present in his ears as well as the sound of Lois' elevated heartbeat, he was able to focus; finding people trapped under debris from the quake and instructing them to get to higher ground.</p><p> </p><p>As he flew the warning sirens started to blare. But it was too late. The wave was almost here, and even as people began to move as high up as they could, Clark still had to fly around helping those who were struggling.</p><p> </p><p>He heard a scream from below and when he turned his head he saw the cause. The horizon was moving now. A line of water was coming towards the city and without another thought, Clark flew down to the source of the scream. It was a mother with her two sons. One of them had their leg caught under a chunk of stone and the other boy was trying to push it off. Clark flew down to them and lifted it up with ease, before throwing it to the side. He carried them all onto a roof top and set them down. The boys clung to their mother, as she sobbed and thanked him.</p><p> </p><p>But Clark didn’t have time to spare, he flew away again and kept going, kept moving, and even as the wave hit the shores and the screams grew louder and louder, he still kept moving.</p><p> </p><p>Buildings collapsed, and people were swept away despite Clark’s best efforts. Even though he knew he shouldn’t do it, he found Lois’ heartbeat through it all, and heard it spike. </p><p> </p><p>He wanted to go to her, but no matter where he went there were calls for help, and the sound of people taking their last water filled breath filled his ears. Lois would be fine. He told himself. She will be fine. </p><p> </p><p>As water swept the streets and moved further inland, he heard it impact the Planet. He held his breath and waited for what would happen next. As the water moved past, it held strong, and Clark clung to that. It would be fine, everyone was in the upper floors, and Lois was there, safe and sound with them.</p><p> </p><p>Then he heard the sound of crumbling.</p><p> </p><p>He flew towards it, pulling people out of the water that had survived the wave as he went. As he lifted one girl out, he saw a mers hand clinging to her leg. He reached for those claws and broke them, before flying the girl away and setting her down on a rooftop.</p><p> </p><p>He noticed them more as he flew, people in the water fending off the mers that swam in after the wave. If it wasn’t the water killing people, it was the mers swimming within it. </p><p> </p><p>But Clark didn’t have time to help everyone, no matter how fast he seemed to move, more and more the sound of crumbling concrete and shattering glass haunted him and by the time he found the Planet, he let out a choked gasp at what he saw.</p><p> </p><p>The windows were gone, and the building was starting to lean. He could hear people rushing from the top floors downwards to the impact zone and despite his warning he could see the bodies trapped in the lower floors. The water was so high that it had reached his floor, sitting not even five feet away from the window he usually looked out of to take in the Metropolis skyline, which in this moment, no longer existed.</p><p> </p><p>He flew around the building, looking for Lois, and when he found her he could feel his heart stop. She was hanging from the side, her feet mere inches above the torrent of water.</p><p> </p><p>A mers hand stretched out from the waves, holding her foot.</p><p> </p><p>She was soaked, and as Clark flew towards her, he screamed her name, his eyes burning red as he killed the mer trying to pull her in.</p><p> </p><p>The mers slipped back into the waves and as he disappeared, Lois let out a single scream as she lost her grip. </p><p> </p><p>She fell into the water, and that's when Clark heard it.</p><p> </p><p>A snap.</p><p> </p><p>He stilled.</p><p> </p><p><br/>“<em>No</em>.” He cried out.<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>A choked breath was the only response he received.</p><p> </p><p>He descended to where she landed. Her head remained above the water, and Clark realised why as he brought his hand to her neck. There, beneath her, lay a portion of collapsed wall and the more he looked at it, the more his vision grew hazy.</p><p> </p><p>All sound ceased. There was only a blanket of white noise that shielded him from everything around him. Clark stared at her face, at her closed eyes and willed them open. Yet no matter how much he prayed, it didn't happen. Her eyes remained closed and as time ticked ever onward, Clark sat there holding onto Lois’ limp hand. “Lois?” He whispered, despite knowing there would only be silence.</p><p> </p><p>He listened for her heartbeat, and when nothing came, he called her name again. Maybe he just didn’t hear her. That had to be it.</p><p> </p><p>“Lois?” He repeated as he shook her shoulder gently.</p><p> </p><p>“Please, answer me…” he choked out, shaking her shoulder more. “I’m here now, you’re gonna be fine. I’m gonna get you someplace safe.”</p><p><br/><br/>Yet, even then she remained silent. As the minutes ticked by, he knew he couldn’t stay here. More buildings crumbled, and more people entered the water, screaming for help, but Clark didn’t care anymore. He just had to get Lois out of here. He had to get her somewhere safe and then everything would be fine.</p><p> </p><p>He scooped her up and flew. </p><p> </p><p>He didn’t know where. </p><p> </p><p>But he flew. </p><p> </p><p>And flew.</p><p> </p><p>And flew.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>C̴̢͉̗̮̫̰͕̼̺͖̬̘͎̐̋̍͌̏̚̚ͅͅl̵̲̦̲̠͇̳̺̟̦̹̜̳͚̦̓̇̿̌̈́a̸̛̰͗̈́͋̀̓̓͠ŗ̷̛̯͓̜͔̝̘̟͔͓̱̤̇̅̏͆̈́̆̒͐͐̆͐͂͗͘k̶̨̹͇̟̈́͒̋͊̂̒̿͛̑̉̕͘͝?̵̮́</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Shh. Lois.” He muttered. “You’re okay. I’m getting you somewhere safe. You and Jon are gonna be safe.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>W̸̼̯͉̻̦̫̪̝͎̲̩̝̳͍͈̆͗̓̊̉̃̂̐̔́͊̿͌͂̀̚͘͝͠ͅͅḩ̷̡̜̩̜̠̲̩̪̭͚̗̳͓̬̺̞̠̥̤̹͎̘̻̬̼̬̣͍͎̘̲͉͑͋̇̈́̓̿̏͒̾̍̌̈́͌͑̃̊̾̃̚͜͠͠ē̴̢̡̢̖͖̠̞̣̱̗̥̖̞͓̩̻̫̱̳̼̝̺̱̰̪̒͆̑̓̓̆̾̑́̚͝͠͠ͅͅr̷̡̡͙̗̝̩̘̤̯̬͇̙̜̦̥͖̺͍̗̲͚͈̼̘̦̙̼̅̃̈̈́͊̀̉̊̓́̈̄͂͗̓͊̌̑͒̒͗͗̈̕͜͝͝ȩ̴̛̯͉̥̰̖̬̀̓͐͗͂͑̓̅̓͐͒̊͂͂̓̾͆̃̀̒̏͂̏̇͘̕͝ ̸̢͍̳̰͕͇͙̙̰̥͂̀͐̔̅̈́͊́̍̄̊̀̇̈́̊̇̇̇̆̏̇̓́̕͘̕̚͘͠͝à̸̰̳͗̎̾͂͋̄̃̇̋̎̋̉̈́̅̌̆̔̒̈́͛̎̇̕̕r̸̛̳̠͉̘̗͇̙̩̱̪̣͛̇͝e̷̢̛͈͚̤̙̒̈́͋͒̋̑͗͑͌̏̽̃̏̈́̈́̽͌̑̓̊̄̓̽̆͘͘͝ ̷̢̡͍͎̫̤̳̞͉͉̭͓͍̬̭̳͈͔͖́̄̓̓̅̎́͑̓͝͝y̷̡̝̤͈̦̗̠̙̺̜̮͕̳̟̖̳̲̦͙̑̉̆͐̈́̔̂̆̓̌͐͂̓̿̇̎͂́͂̆̄̊̆̊ö̵̡͕̪̲̙̟̰̦̟͈̻̞͇̲̥̻́́͋̐̎̄̎̈̕̚ͅu̸̢̻̤͕̱̳̫̓͝?̴̛͔̈̍͐̆̐̋̃̓̍̈͛͒͊̋̈́̒̊́̿̌͛͆̈́͘͘͜</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“I’m right here.” He said, down at her lifeless face. “I’m not going anywhere.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p><br/><br/>T̵̨̲̪̮̩̗͉̼̼̤̹̙̼͎̬̻͉̲̈́́̑̄́͐̑̽̕͝͠ͅȟ̸̢̡̺̯̥͕̱̲͈̰̭̰͊̔e̸̡͖̜̪̝̰̲͖͋́́̾̆̑̌̉͒͒͂̇̾͛̊̐̕͠͝͝r̸̨̛̹̫̦͕̞͈̰̯̙̗̫̯̿̅̄͐̈́́̽̆̄͗̇͊̍̈͂̋̌̈́͌͜͝e̸̢̢̡̛̟͉̥͖͕̙̩͕̪̠̱͎̮̺͕͎̖̦̣̬̰̲͈̬̥̰̝̓̏̋̏̿̋̊̐͊͌̀̐̓̽͛̔̍̈͋̂̔͌͂̓̅̇͒͝͝ͅ ̶̢̧̗͍̫͔̙͖̺̯̰̰͉̯̣̣̽̾͒̃̉̚̕͜ͅỳ̵̥̩̱͔̤̃͗̃̔̉̄̆̎͂͆̽͗̽̆̔͂͑̉̈͂̊̏̎̂͊̊͝͠ö̸̢̢̳͕͓̭̦̠̰̗͇̺́͑̄̉̅͘̕͜͝͠ų̷̡̨͇̫̳̲̗̯͉̤̝̟̮̦̲͍̞̼̤̻̍̊͜͜ ̸̡̛̳̬̰͔̖̦̘͎̩̜͈̟̱̻̆̆̅̇͌̑̅͘͝ͅä̷̧̼̫͕̱̜̪̙̤̰͕̺̣͎̞̰̙̫͕̩̻͍̓͐̿͌͐̈́͌̔̇͐̔̒͊͌́̂͘͘͘͜ŗ̸̢̨̡̧̛̺͎̮̯̫̻͈̰͖̹͙̜̝̤̯̮̭͔̤̲̙̥̗̟̖͖̤͔̏̋̈͐̏̾̂̈́͛͗͑̈́͗̂̓̕͝͝ę̷̢̢̨̢͚̥͙̺͉͇̲̼͕̖̱͎̻̦̝̭̞͔̱̱̩̥̬̟̣̩͠.̴̡͔̗̗̭͍̳̺͍͎̜̞̠̮̭̩̰̂̆͑̓͋̈́̾̌̀̾̍̅͗̃̀͆̽̓̕͝͝</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Something was pawing at his face.</p><p> </p><p>Clark’s eyes slowly slid open, and when they did, for a brief moment he could have sworn it was Lois he saw before him. She had that sleepy smile she’d always wear as she’d wake him up in the morning. He could even feel the soft linen of their bed sheets, see the skyline in the window behind her. </p><p> </p><p>But as his vision cleared, someone else came into view and he let out a sigh as he sat up. “Oh.” Clark muttered. “It's you.”</p><p> </p><p>At Blue’s frown, Clark shook his head. “I just meant--” he sighed. “Never mind, I don't know what I meant.”</p><p> </p><p>Blue remained quiet, not even offering a snide chirp that Clark was somewhat expecting. He simply sat next to him, staring at the plaque on the floor. He brought his hand to it, touching the surface, and Clark wondered if he was trying to read the words etched there.</p><p><br/><br/>“It’s a grave.” Clark said, and at the words Blue’s ears twitched. “My wife and son… They’re buried here.” </p><p> </p><p>Clark would have wondered if Blue understood those words, but the way his eyes grew sad as he turned to look at Clark told him that he had. He chirped, and moved closer to Clark, his hand reaching for his.</p><p> </p><p><br/>Clark let him take a hold of it, and he squeezed his fingers in return, staring down at the blue skin and sharp claws. “It’s coming up on four years since I lost them, and yet the pain is still there. Still fresh.” Clark closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “I thought i’d get over it eventually. When my Ma and Pa died, it hurt, but not as much as this. I suppose ‘cause with them, it didn’t feel like I had a choice.”</p><p> </p><p>“I had a choice with Lois. If I had done things differently that day. I wouldn’t be here right now and she would be alive.” At the words, Clark chanced a look at the mer and didn’t miss the hurt on his face. </p><p> </p><p>“But what would have been the cost? I know what she would have said had I flown her far away before the wave hit. Every person who died that day would have sat on her conscious. But despite that, I knew she <em>wanted</em> me to save her. She was waiting for it. Knew I’d be coming back and yet...”</p><p><br/><br/>He pulled his hand free, bringing it to his face to wipe away the tears. “If I just been a few seconds faster, she’d be alive. If I hadn't left her there, she’d be alive.” Clark even wondered if he hadn’t met her if she’d be alive. Maybe in another world that was the case. Maybe there was even another world there was a version of him that had been just a second faster.</p><p> </p><p>And yet, as he looked at the mer, he felt his heart swell and he leant closer to him, letting his head rest on his shoulder. “But that’s not what happened, and I need to deal with that.” He took another breath. “I really want to get better. I'm not an idiot. I know what i’m doing isn’t healthy; that the way I think is a psychologists nightmare. I also know the first part of dealing with an issue is addressing it.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ‘But Dinah… What if I’m terrible? What if I do everything wrong?’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ‘Clark, that's part of the experience, besides Lois will be right there beside you. Once the baby is born, you’ll find that all of these worries are going to disappear.’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ‘But what about until then? Seven months of worry and then what? What if it doesn’t go away?’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ‘Well how about this, focus on each of those fears. Look at them all individually and focus on one at a time. Worried you’ll feed him wrong? Watch some videos and learn. Worried you’ll not be able to console him when he cries? Read a few parenting books. If you don’t separate these problems you’ll feel overwhelmed. Once they’re separated, they suddenly become a lot easier to handle.’</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>As the memory faded, Clark turned to the mer. “Do you ever hear voices in your head?” He asked. Blue pondered those words before offering a single nod. “See, I've heard Lois’ voice in my head ever since she died. At first she’d talk like how I knew she would, say things I knew she’d say, but after a while, it changed. She stopped sounding like herself. She started sounding like my worst fears; my worst thoughts. I knew it wasn’t her talking, but it was like I couldn’t stop my mind from doing it. She’d call me out whenever I did something bad. But it wouldn’t be what I thought she’d think was bad. It was all me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Take you for instance. Lois never hated mers. She wasn’t an activist or anything, but she never said she hated them. And yet, every time I think about you, that little voice that sounds like her tells me to stop. To end things.”</p><p> </p><p>“But I know now that voice wasn’t her. It was me. Honestly, I think she’d find you hilarious. Like when you messed with my clothes. She did the same thing when I accidentally washed my red shirt with her whites. She threw my ties off the balcony and I had to go down to the streets and pick them up and even then, she said it didn’t make up for all the ‘huh Lois, pink shirt again?’ comments she got at work.”</p><p> </p><p>“The point i’m trying to make is that. I want to get better. It will take a long time, I know, but the first step of dealing with a problem is admitting you have one, right? So that’s what I’m doing. I’m not over Lois, that much I know, and to deal with that I have to just… Change the way I think about her.” He thought of Marcos' visit, to his words and he swallowed. “I want to believe she would be proud of me. Even if I didn’t always make the best choices. It’s like Marcos said, it was hard getting up every morning for the past three years, and I like to think she'd be proud of me for doing just that. But... I will say, something made it easier these past few months.” </p><p> </p><p>“Which leads me to this...” Clark took Blue’s hand and held it tight. “Lois, this is Blue, he’s an asshole and I sort of hate him, but he’s the best thing in my life right now and I’m sure you’d have enjoyed how much he torments me.”</p><p> </p><p>In the end, they sat there for nearly an hour. With Blue eventually laying down and letting his head rest on Clark’s lap. He didn’t rush him, which Clark was grateful for. He needed just a little more time here, and having someone other than the ghosts of memories for company was refreshing. </p><p> </p><p>As he felt his hunger grow, as well as noticed Blue getting fidgety, he took a deep breath and eased the mer up right before standing up. He scooped him into his arms and with a quiet goodbye, went back to the cabin.</p><p> </p><p>After eating, he spent the rest of the day making sure his home looked at least somewhat presentable. It was hard, and he had to leave the door open to try and get some air in to dry the place out, but eventually it looked okay, and he finished by setting the picture frame that had toppled off his desk back in its rightful place.</p><p> </p><p>His parents and Lois smiled up at him and when the usual burst of guilt threatened to spill forth, he took a deep breath. She wouldn’t be mad, he told himself, she’d be proud of you if she could see you right now.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <strike> <em> You just have to be strong, and keep moving forward, okay? </em> </strike>
</p><p> </p><p>He let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding and at the words he felt his eyes water. That was the Lois he knew, not his thoughts wearing her voice. All at once, he felt lighter and he turned and walked out onto the beach.</p><p> </p><p>It would take time, he knew that. But one day he hoped to get better. Like Lois said, he just had to keep moving forward.</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>ALL ABOARD THE FEELS TRAIN. CHOO CHOO!</p><p>What a roller coaster, eh? You guys must have been riding high from the kiss, and then I just came along and smacked y'all the back of the heads with pure feels XD</p><p>Is there more to that day in Metropolis that Clark is still repressing? Who knows. Who knows indeed ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). But what is important is that he is getting better, slowly but surely, and now things are looking a little brighter in his life. </p><p>At least for now ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) </p><p>Kidding! Everything is sunshine and rainbows from here on out! </p><p>... ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)</p><p>Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! As well as the art! :D In the chapter is a piece I did for the boys first kiss which you can also find on my Tumblr <a href="https://batman-katflap.tumblr.com/">Batman-Katflap</a> , and at the bottom are pieces created by the wonderful <a href="https://paxpaxdraws.tumblr.com/">paxpaxdraws</a> (the piece on the left) and <a href="https://twitter.com/korpsed/status/1363736816164110340?s=20">kuween</a> (the piece on the right) of Blue! They are both so beautiful, I can't even express my love for them enough &lt;3 -w- &lt;3 As always, catch you all next time. Take care! :D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Chapter 19</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> July 29th 2016 </em>
</p><p> </p><p>After yesterday, Clark wasn’t expecting too much to change between himself and the mer. He knew they had entered into new territory, sure, but for some reason it didn’t feel as unfamiliar as he expected it to. The mer was still the mer. Clark was still Clark. He had a name now, sure, but all that really did was make it easier for Clark to chastise him.</p><p><br/>
Such as this morning, when he awoke to a fishy lump on top of him.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Blue. Get off.” Clark muttered as he wiped the sleep from his eyes. “Come on. Get. You weigh a ton.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Not that that made a difference to Clark. Really, Blue could weigh double and it still would be as ineffectual as a small door mouse would be, and yet, it felt right to gripe. Just because they had kissed, didn’t give the mer the right to clamber on top of him during the night and all but suffocate him. </p><p> </p><p>Despite this, Clark didn’t push him off, didn’t do much other than grumble half heartedly, which of course wasn’t going to do much to dissuade the mer.</p><p> </p><p>Which incidentally was exactly what happened. Even at Clark’s comment, Blue remained a half conscious lump on top of him. Clark brought his hands to his sides, poking along the muscle there, hoping to perhaps illicit any sort of response to try and move him. When his hands reached his underarms, a thought struck him. Were mers ticklish? <em> Only one way to find out</em>, he thought to himself.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
He wiggled his fingers against the skin there and Blue jolted up, suddenly wide awake.</p><p> </p><p>Clark only grinned. “So you <em> are </em> ticklish.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Blue’s face grew red, as he chirped and swiped at Clark’s hands. “Oh, i’m sorry, did you <em> not </em> want me to keep doing that?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
The mer nodded, and Clark nodded with him. “So you <em> do </em> want me to keep tickling you?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Blue sputtered before hissing. He then proceeded to grumble as he slipped off the bed and into his tub. Once inside, he crossed his arms, using his hands to hold onto his sides. Clark’s grin only grew. “Hey, don’t pout…” he muttered with a slight laugh as he watched the mer's mouth press into a line beneath the water. </p><p> </p><p>“Alright, alright, I’m sorry.” Clark said as he sat up. “I won’t tickle you again.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
The mer’s ears pricked up at that and he turned a hopeful glance towards Clark.</p><p> </p><p><br/>
“Unless you refuse to get off me again.” Clark added.</p><p> </p><p>Blue’s frown returned.</p><p> </p><p>Clark laughed again, before getting off of the bed and stretching. “Alright. Be right back.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
The mer didn’t object to Clark leaving. For one, it wasn’t like he was going anywhere. He used his outhouse, gave himself a quick wash, and in less that ten minutes was making his way back inside. It was upon his return and opening his dresser however, that he saw the state of his clothes and sighed. “Maybe I should finally get some new stuff…” he said to himself as he riffled through the old and worn shirts. He then turned to Blue. “What do you think?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
The mer poked his head out of the water until his lips were just above it. He chirped, his head quirking to his side.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, it's just that my clothes have seen better days…” Clark said as he sent a foux glare the mer’s way. At that, Blue returned a sheepish grin. “To be fair, they were ruined before you even got your claws on ‘em. I need new clothes, have done for a while, so…” he sighed. “I guess it's time to open it.”<br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>Clark crouched down on the floor and ran his fingers along one of the wooden planks until he found the end. He lifted it, and as there were no nails keeping it in place, it came up easily. Underneath was a small metal box, covered in a dusting of dirt and sand. Clark reached for it and blew the worst of the debris off of it. He then stood up and made his way to his desk, falling into the seat. He opened the drawer there, his hand grazing over his journal and contact book still within, if a little water damaged from the rain. He then found what he was looking for; the unassuming paperweight he had thrown in there. He picked it up. </p><p> </p><p>“Now then.” He said as he set the box down on the desk. He turned his attention to the paperweight in his hand. It was made out of concrete as that was what Clark had used when setting the foundations of his cabin. He had a little left over, and after sealing away the contents of the box underneath his home, he placed the key to it within the concrete, before molding it into a small ball.</p><p> </p><p>It was partly to try and dissuade him from opening it easily. Yes, he could simply break open the box, but he also liked to think he had a bit more control than that. With the key inside the concrete, it acted as a reminder that what it opened was to only be opened as a last resort.</p><p> </p><p>He gripped either side of the concrete, and with a slightly twist of the wrists, it split in half. Laying perfectly in the middle was the key. Clark grimaced when he noticed that the concrete had filled the notches of the metal. “Oh.” He muttered as he dug the key out using his finger nails. The idea that this wasn't the smartest thing he had ever done, came to him. But he chose to ignore it.</p><p> </p><p>Once free, the concrete was still in the ridges despite Clark’s best efforts. He brought it to the lock, all as the mer watched him with rapt attention. Sure enough, the key no longer worked. So with a frown, Clark simply covered the lock with his hand and made an attempt at opening it, all while crushing the lock within his fist. “Ta da.” He said with a nervous laugh towards the mer. He brought the now destroyed lock away, and set the useless key down next to it. </p><p> </p><p><br/>
Clark supposed it didn’t really matter, wasn’t as if anything was going to rob him.</p><p> </p><p>For inside the box were bundles of notes. Blue chirped as he sat up further to try and get closer to the box, peering over the side of the tub towards it and Clark. “This is money.” Clark said, lifting one of the wads of notes. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>He had somewhat lied to Marcos about his money troubles. Whilst he was not a millionaire or anything, he wasn’t as broke as he seemed to portray himself by living in his shack. For one, he and Lois were intending to buy a house at some point after the baby was born, and were saving up accordingly. After the quake, Clark doesn't remember much about what he did after getting to the island. He just knew at some point he flew to another city and took out a large sum of his savings, but beyond that, things were still fuzzy.</p><p> </p><p>This also wasn’t all of his money. He still had a bank account, which he assumed was still open, but like the key, the added steps he would have to go through to access it meant he didn’t really have any motivation to do so. Maybe one day he would, but for now, he was okay with the amount he currently had stashed.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Alright.” Clark said, taking out a bundle of notes before closing the box and putting it back under the plank. He quickly threw on the pieces of clothing he intended on keeping, and resolved that everything else was going to get burnt. “I think I’m good to go. You gonna be okay here?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Blue looked up at Clark before chirping and pointing out towards the door. Clark turned to it, and nodded. “Yeah, I’m going to be gone for a little while. You want me to carry you to the water?”</p><p> </p><p>Surprisingly, Blue shook his head, pulling himself up and out of the tub before shimmying his way out the door and to the sand. Clark raised a brow whilst following along next to him. “This is rare, usually you do your princess act. After all, crawling along the floor is too good for his highness.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Blue looked up at him, and something close to mischief came across his face as he stopped and rolled onto his back. He reached up for Clark, who only laughed. “God, really? The water is right there.'' he said, gesturing to the lapping shore not even ten feet away from them.</p><p> </p><p>Blue only shook his head, and even began to open and close his hands as he lay on his back. Clark sighed. “I should have just kept quiet…” he muttered with a smile. He bent over, reaching for the mers sides. But before he could lift him, Blue’s face darted forward, his mouth pressing against Clark’s. He then pulled back with a small smirk. </p><p> </p><p>Clark's opened his mouth, perhaps in the hopes of saying something witty, but instead only let out a stream of half syllables, before ending on a shallow breath. His face was beet red as he lifted Blue up and walked the ten feet to the water. He set him down in the frothy waves, but the mer didn’t go into the water immediately, opting to sit in the waves and look up at Clark, who only looked away from him, out across the water. “If you wanted a kiss, you could have just asked...”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark realised the problem in that logic the moment the words left him and sure enough, when he looked at the mer his face was less than impressed. “You know what I mean,” he continued with a roll of the eyes. “I just meant, you don’t have to like, surprise me, you can just…” Clark swallowed thickly, before crouching down to meet the mer’s line of sight, then, slowly, he edged forward and placed a single kiss on his forehead. He pulled back and looked at the mer. “Like that.”</p><p> </p><p>A smile began to spread across the mer's lips, and with more zeal than Clark was expecting he darted forward again, his lips going to Clark’s own forehead. He then pulled back, tilting his head in question. </p><p> </p><p>Clark coughed, looking away. “Yeah, that was…” he opened his mouth, hoping for something more poignant to come forth, but when nothing did he settled on, “nice.” He finished with a small smile of his own.</p><p> </p><p>He then stood up. “Alright, i'll be back in a little while, stay near the island and don’t cause trouble.'' Clark said, adding the last part upon noticing the sharks swimming near the whale again. Despite there not being much meat left on the thing, there was always a swarm of something or another feeding on it still.</p><p> </p><p>Blue didn’t nod, but didn’t give his usual derisive chirp either, so Clark assumed he was going to listen to him, and Hell, if he didn’t, he would be the one having to deal with another bite, not Clark. </p><p> </p><p>After making his way to the jetty, Clark hopped onto his boat, and made his way to Cottonwood.</p><p> </p><p><br/>
Perhaps a normal individual would have exercised caution about returning to the island that inhabited individuals that had tried to kill him.</p><p> </p><p><br/>
But Clark wasn’t normal and as such it was with a smile and wave that he greeted Steve on the dock upon his arrival.</p><p> </p><p><br/>
There was a lot of activity in the area when he moored, and Steve was among one of the people there. Upon seeing Clark however, the man ducked his head and left so quickly he stumbled across the boardwalk. He wondered if he'd see Antonio or Colin whilst he was here, but decided to let fate decide if that would be the case. </p><p> </p><p>As he walked through the docks, he spied Porter within his office. He was writing at his desk and Clark debated going inside to say hello, but given the mountain of paperwork beside him and the general business of the place, he figured now wasn’t the best time. </p><p> </p><p><br/>
Instead he kept walking, and as he passed the Old Sal’s he paused. It was open, but a quick glance inside revealed there was only one person at the counter.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark stepped inside, and immediately Marcos’ eyes went to him, they blew wide in shock, and Clark could see the redness in them. He didn't speak, his mouth only bobbing open and closed.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey.” Clark offered.</p><p> </p><p>Marcos’ eyes started to water, and he stood up on shaky legs. “Clark, I’m--”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Before he could begin the speech Clark could feel coming, he held up his hand. “Don’t apologize.” He said, approaching the counter. “You did what you had to do. I’m okay and nobody got hurt.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Marcos brought his hands to his eyes and wiped them, sniffling. “I knew you’d be okay, but I was so worried. I should have warned you but I--”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“I told you.'' Clark said firmly, moving closer. “I’m okay, so don’t worry about it.” He stopped just in front of Marcos, bringing his hand up to rest on his shoulders. “How are you doing?”</p><p> </p><p>Marcos looked up at him with glassy eyes, and slowly he pressed forward until his face was against Clark’s chest. “My dad...” he whispered so quietly, even Clark struggled to hear it. “He’s… He’s--”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“I know.” Clark said as gently as he could. He slid his hands along his shoulders before wrapping them around him. Like this, he seemed so much smaller. Clark wondered how he ever thought he wasn’t just a kid. “Where is he?” He asked, looking around the empty building.</p><p> </p><p>“Redding.” Marcos muttered. “He’s staying there with a friend whilst he goes through chemo.”</p><p> </p><p>“And you’re running the shop alone?”</p><p> </p><p>“Have to.” Marcos said, swallowing thickly, as though sensing Clark’s next question, he only said one more word. “Bills.”<br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>“Right.” Clark said with a frown. </p><p> </p><p>For a while, neither spoke. Clark rubbed gentle circles into Marcos’ back as the other stood, and let out tears that Clark knew were long time coming. Eventually though, Marcos pulled back, wiping his eyes and sending a watery smile up towards Clark. “Thanks, I needed that.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Of course.” Clark said with a nod. “You know where I am if you need another.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Marcos smiled at that, but it barely touched his eyes and was accompanied with a small shrug. “Don’t know if i'm gonna have any time to visit, but when I do, i'll take you up on that.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark made a face, as he crossed his arms. “Then I guess I'll just have to come here more.”</p><p> </p><p>Those glassy eyes met him once more. “Really?” Marcos asked quietly.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Sure, not like I’ve got much else going on in my life. Blue’s pretty low maintenance when he’s not doing his princess act.”</p><p> </p><p><br/>
That caused a raised eyebrow. “Blue?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark opened his mouth to respond, before it snapped back shut. “I meant the mer.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Marcos however only laughed. “No no. It's a nice name.” He said, trying to obscure his smile with his hand. “It suits him.”</p><p> </p><p>Clark however could still feel his cheeks burning red. “Yeah...” He said after failing to find any other words.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Marcos nodded at that, and perhaps sensed there were no other words that would be coming along. He let out a breath and went back to his stool. “It was nice chatting Clark. I guess i’ll see you next time, then.”</p><p> </p><p><br/>
“Yeah…” Clark repeated, his mind still flustered. He then cleared his throat. “Yeah, i’ll drop by in a week or so, see how you’re doing.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“I mean, don’t feel like you have to. Even if you just came by for my birthday, that would be cool.” Marcos said shyly</p><p> </p><p>“Right.” Clark said, clapping his hands together. “You said it was in August. What day? I’ll make sure I'm free.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“The 17th.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark wasn’t aware that hearing a date could punch him so thoroughly in the gut, and yet the pain and breathlessness he was feeling felt an awful lot like it. “The 17th?” He repeated.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Marcos’ looked away, as he waved his hand. “You know never mind, if you can’t make it, it’s--”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“No, no.” Clark blurted, before shoving his hands into his pockets to try and stop the trembling. “It's just…” he began, swallowing thickly. “That’s Lois’ birthday.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>The 17th would mark four years since he lost her. Would mark four years since he moved to his island and forwent his old life. The idea of doing anything other than lay in bed and wallow on that day seemed impossible, and yet, he tried to think of what he had promised to do only yesterday. He had been so hopeful he would be able to change his ways, to not remain stuck in the past and be ruled by it. Maybe this was his chance to do just that, maybe he would finally be able to spend a birthday how it was supposed to be celebrated.</p><p> </p><p>So it was as he looked at Marcos’ somber expression that he gave a single nod. “I’ll be there,” he said firmly.</p><p> </p><p>Marcos however only shook his head. “No, no. If you’re busy or you don’t want to, don’t feel like you have to just because I--”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“No.” Clark said, with that same unwavering resolve. “I’ll be here.”</p><p> </p><p>With that, it was only a few quiet goodbyes that were shared before Clark made his way outside. </p><p> </p><p>It was as he walked down the main shopping street that he realised he was on autopilot, making his way to Lucy’s and having to forcibly stop himself as he passed a small clothing shop. It reminded him why he was there in the first place, so with a sigh he walked inside.</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t like shopping for clothes at the best times. Truthfully, Lois used to buy his clothes for him after they were married, mostly as Clark had the fashion sense of a walnut, but also because taking the time to do something as trivial as choosing clothing seemed like a waste of time to him. Now however, he knew he had to do it, and so he went around the rails and dutifully picked up a few shirts he thought looked nice.</p><p> </p><p>He also bought new pants, and underwear, and even some sandals that looked comfortable. The prices were a little on the high side, but like most of the shops in Cottonwood, it looked like it didn’t get much business. So much so, that when Clark unloaded his arms onto the counter the cashier looked to almost burst with joy. “Is that everything for you, sir?” She asked, as she began to ring it all up.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Yeah, I guess.” He said, looking around the place once more. “I think I got everything I needed. Not like I really need all that much.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Would you like to take a look at our jewelry?” She asked as she gestured to the glass cabinet beside the cash register. “We have a sale on them at the moment.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“I don't really wear…” Clark began, but as he looked into the cabinet his eyes caught one piece. “What's that?” He asked, pointing at the bracelet he spied.</p><p> </p><p><br/>
The woman paused her movements and looked into the cabinet, following Clark’s finger. “Oh, that piece. It's beautiful isn't it? It's pure silver, and the gemstones are aquamarines.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“How much is it?” Clark asked, his eyes still focusing on the gems.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“It was seven hundred dollars, but at the moment it's down to four hundred.”</p><p> </p><p>Clark pulled out his bundles of notes, and flicked through them. It would use up a lot of the money he’d brought with him, and yet... “I'll take it.”  </p><p> </p><p>The sales assistant nodded vigorously as she opened the cabinet and took out the bracelet. She then packed it into a small blue box. Clark paid for his goods and left soon after. Once outside, he looked at the remainder of his money. Just enough for some groceries.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
After walking into Lucy’s he had expected to see her behind the counter, but today she wasn’t there. Instead it was the girl he occasionally saw manning the register. They hadn’t really spoken to one another beyond Clark asking if Lucy was around, but this time upon asking, the girl only shook her head. “She’s visiting a friend.” She said. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh.” Clark said, barely concealing his disappointment. At the girl’s face, he brought up his hand. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound like a dick.”</p><p><br/>
“Well.” The girl said, fighting a smile. “I wasn’t going to say…”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Sorry again, I guess I was just looking forward to chatting with Luce.” Clark said, picking up a basket.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, she looks forward to your talks, too.” The girl said. “She’s gonna be mad when she finds out you dropped by when she was out.”</p><p> </p><p>Clark smiled at that, and began putting a few things into his basket. As the minutes passed he poked his head from out of the aisle and called out to the girl. “You know, i’ve been coming here a while, and I still don’t know your name.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“It’s Barbara.” The girl said, swiping a strand of her red hair behind her ear. “I’m Lucy’s niece.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Right.” Clark said with a nod. “I’m Clark, by the way.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“I know.” She said with a smile.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Right, of course.” Clark said, shaking his head. “Sorry.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Hey, no need to apologize.” Barbara said, waving her hand. “I don't know every customer's name or anything, it’s like I said, my aunt talks about you a lot.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Good things I hope.” Clark said, approaching the counter and setting his basket down.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“She says she can trust you.” Barbara said, her eyes taking on a quality Clark couldn't place. “So yeah, very good things.” She continued.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark couldn't help it, he looked away from those eyes with a faint blush. “I got her out of a tight jam a while back, that's all.”<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“That's not why she trusts you.” Was all she said, as she started ringing up and packing Clark’s shopping. </p><p> </p><p>Clark would have pried further, but something in her expression told him that would be a bad idea. So instead he stood in silence as Barbara finished ringing up his goods. Once they were packed up, she handed the bag over and Clark placed a few notes on the counter. Barbara counted them up before opening the register and taking a few coins out and setting them down in return. “Thank you for shopping with us. I'll let my aunt know you said hi.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Thanks, Barbara.” He said with a nod. “Be seeing you.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
As he stepped back outside onto the high street, it was just as a large vehicle drove past. Soon to be followed by a few more. Clark watched them pass, hearing the ground rumble as they moved. He went to walk away then, only to feel something or more accurately someone bump into him.</p><p> </p><p>Papers fell to the floor, only to be whipped up by the breeze. Clark went after them, easily scooping them up with his free hand. The person who had bumped into him was still dazed on the floor. He righted his askew glasses as he looked up at Clark. He cleared his throat and hopped back onto his feet. “You should watch where you are going.” He said as he dusted himself off.</p><p> </p><p>Clark frowned. “I was standing still. <em>You</em> might not wanna read whilst walking instead.” He said as he held the bundle of papers out towards the man.</p><p> </p><p>The man lost whatever attitude he had at that, opting instead for a sheepish look. “You might have a point there. Sorry about that.”</p><p> </p><p>Clark shrugged. “It's not a big deal.” As he said the words, another vehicle drove past and Clark watched it go. “That’s like the third one…” Clark muttered to himself.</p><p> </p><p>The man noticed. “Ah, you mean the trucks? We have a lot of supplies that need moving you see. I assure you they won’t be a nuisance though. We will keep construction to social hours only.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
There was a lot to pick apart there, but Clark started with, “Supplies?” he asked, raising a brow. “For what?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“For construction.” The man said, rearranging the papers in his hands. “I’m a developer. I currently have a few projects underway here in Cottonwood.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Recognition hit him. “Walter, right?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
The man frowned at that, before it quickly turned into a grin. “Right! So you’ve heard of me? Can I ask from where? If it was in Manton, I will say I have a few properties still for sale there that I’m willing to negotiate the price of if--” But he cut himself off with a sharp sign. “Forgive me, I’m getting ahead of myself, I still don’t know your name.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“It’s Clark.” He said, and at Walter’s nod, he continued. “Lucy mentioned there was someone who brought Tom’s farm for a housing development.”</p><p> </p><p>“And right you are, though I wouldn't say i'm making houses, my plans for the land are rather more… opulent.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Right, i heard that.'' Clark pursed his lips. “And as that's the case, I wish you luck selling them.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Walter however didn’t look put off by the sentiment, instead sending a haughty grin Clark’s way. “You know, people keep telling me that, but I already have a client lined up, so perhaps my vision wasn’t too outlandish.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Oh?” Clark asked, raising a brow. “Do they already live here or…?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Walter shook his head. “No, no, they’re moving here and in fact, they want to move as soon as possible. Which is why I was a little… distracted when I bumped into you. I have to oversee a lot of the work to make sure it's up to the buyers standards.” He waved his pile of paper to further his point.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark nodded. “They have high standards then?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Oh yes.'' Walter said with a smile. “Ms. Kyle is a wonderful woman, but she does expect a lot and I hope to deliver.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark nodded at that. “I'm sure she's very nice.” He said. “But by the sounds of it I better let you get back to work. It was nice to meet you Walter.”</p><p> </p><p>“And you Clark. Oh, and here--” He pulled out a business card from his pocket and handed it over. “If you ever think about moving, here is my number. Be seeing you!” He said with a smile before leaving, and despite what had happened only minutes prior, the man was back to reading his papers as he walked hurriedly down the street with nary a look in front of him.</p><p> </p><p>As Clark made his way onto the docks he noticed a lot more movement than when he had first got there. There were quite a few large boats moored and a ramp was down on one of them, with vehicles being driven off and onto the road leading out into the main high street. The few islanders he passed held the same expression on their face that Clark was sure anyone would have upon seeing the amount of construction vehicles moving onto the island. </p><p> </p><p>That was one thing he didn’t miss about living in Metropolis. The noise. The loudest thing he had to deal with on his island was the mer screaming at him; no rumble of vehicles of clattering of construction. </p><p> </p><p>He went home and upon unpacking his clothes and goods, he found the small blue box in and amongst them. He opened it, peering in at the silver chain dotted with small gemstones. He’d noticed Blue lounging under the jetty as he was returning, and sure enough as he went back outside, he was still there.</p><p> </p><p>As he approached, the mer started to get up and swim the short distance back to shore. His eyes were half closed as though he had only recently awoke, and Clark had to assume it was his boat that was to thank for that. “Sorry for waking you.” He said as he sat by the shore. His feet just touched the lapping water. At his words, Blue batted a hand his way, before shimmying along beside him.</p><p> </p><p>Clark had hoped that he wouldn’t notice the box right away, but of course upon seeing it in Clark's hands, he was curious. Blue leant over, his hand going for it, and screeching when Clark pulled it away. “Hey, hey. What have I told you about being patient?”</p><p> </p><p>Blue frowned before huffing and turning to sit on his rear, arms crossed. He then sighed, then sighed again, and when Clark still hadn’t moved he started to screech.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright, <em> Jesus </em>...” Clark muttered as he passed the box to him. “It's not edible.” He said and tried not to roll his eyes as Blue’s face grew disappointed,</p><p> </p><p>That only lasted for a moment through as he lifted the lid and looked within. His eyes caught the gemstones, and he brought his hand up, trailing along the silver with his claw just as Clark had done. He looked up at Clark then, before pointing at himself. “Yeah.” Clark said with a nod. “I got it for you.” </p><p> </p><p>As Blue watched him fervently, Clark grew embarrassed, and he could feel his face grow hot. “Okay, now that i'm thinking about it, this was a bad idea.” Clark reached for the box. “Never mind, you don’t need to--”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
But Blue swiped at him, curling the box into his body, and hissing. Clark retreated and only when he brought his hands down did Blue bring the box back out and resume staring.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you…” Clark began, swallowing. “You want me to put it on for you?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark had assumed with the mers claws, it wasn’t going to be easy for him to try and handle the clasps himself. It did take a minute for the mer to respond to his question, perhaps still worried Clark would try and take it back if given the chance. Eventually though, he passed over the box, and Clark pulled out the chain, and brought it to his wrist. “It’s silver.'' Clark said uselessly, sure that the mer wouldn't have even cared if it had been plastic. “And the gems are aquamarines, they--'' he cut himself off, and only once he had secured the clasp did he continue. “They reminded me of your eyes...”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
As though trying to prove his point, Blue’s eyes blew wide and he looked at the gemstones again, moving his wrist from side to side and watching how the gemstones glittered in the sun.</p><p> </p><p>
  
</p><p> </p><p>He came forward then, pushing himself up and into Clark’s lap. He wrapped his arms around his neck, and once his face was right before his, brought his lips forward and brushed them against Clark’s.</p><p> </p><p>Clark brought his hands up to the mers hips, holding him there gently. He parted his mouth and felt the mer's tongue dart forward. Heat enveloped his stomach, and threatened to move south at any moment, so he pulled back. Taking a deep breath. “You’re welcome.” He said after a moment.</p><p> </p><p>The mer seemed reluctant to end the kiss, but with a petulant frown didn’t try to resume, opting instead to let go and roll onto the sand. He brought his wrist up and held it up above his face. He then started to chirp, using his other hand to point at the bracelet, then point at Clark.</p><p> </p><p>Clark thought he understood him. “I brought it for you.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
But the mer shook his head, he repeated the gesture and this time made a face. A frown, then a smile.</p><p> </p><p>Clark made a face right back. “I--” he tried to discern the meaning, and with great hesitance ventured. “I like it, yeah. That’s why I got it.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
The mer nodded, before sitting up. He then made his way into the water and Clark watched him go. </p><p> </p><p>Clark wanted to ask where he was off to, but figured the mer wasn’t going to do anything stupid so let him go. He watched him swim until he noticed him delve deep into the water and after that Clark got up. He went inside and spent the rest of his evening relaxing as he waited for the mer to return home.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Little longer for the update that usual, and for that I apologize. It most likely will be 2 weeks between updates from now on, which I know I have said before, but it's more to act as a warning rather than be definitive. May be sooner, may be longer. We will have to see how it goes. </p><p>Anyway with that out of the way, I hope you all enjoyed the chapter ;) Things are looking good between Blue and Clark. There are some new names and faces being introduced and a certain birthday is coming up ;D </p><p>As always I hope you enjoy &lt;3 Your kind words and love are what keep me going, so, until I see you next, take care! :3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Chapter 20</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Later, as night approached, Clark found his earlier patience wearing thin.</p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t as if this was the first time the mer had been away from the island for the night. It was just that this was the first time in a very long while. Realistically, Clark expected Blue to venture away from the island more than he already did, and yet, as the hours ticked by and he still hadn’t returned, Clark felt a cold sweat come over himself. <em> ‘He’s fine,’ </em> he’d tell himself. <em> ‘He can take care of himself,’ </em> he’d begin to say when the first mantra lost its effectiveness. </p><p> </p><p>But it was of little use; as the sun descended lower and lower, he finally bit the bullet, grabbed his keys and hopped onto his boat, heading for open water.</p><p> </p><p>Trying to find the mer’s heart beat in and amongst the noise of the ocean was harder than Clark expected. He must have been way deeper than usual, as any attempts to listen in were greeted with a painfully slow thud that Clark could have almost mistaken for the current. It did give him a general direction to aim towards though, and sure enough, as Clark made his way towards where the sound came from, he saw something in the water.</p><p> </p><p>At first he thought it was Blue. At this distance, he could only see a tuft of dark hair and the vague shape of a body. </p><p> </p><p>But as he pulled his boat up towards the thing in the water, he saw it wasn’t in fact Blue, and that there wasn’t just one of them floating there.</p><p> </p><p>“Jesus christ…” Clark muttered as he brought his boat to a stop. He walked out onto the swim platform and stared out at the water. </p><p> </p><p>Floating around in the waves were mers, unmoving, with their backs facing upwards towards the sky. There was not a single heartbeat from any of them. They were dead. All of them.</p><p> </p><p><br/>
The sheer number of them had Clark’s neck grow damp with sweat. There were at least ten of them from what he could see, and they weren’t small either.</p><p> </p><p><em> It might not have been the mer. </em> He thought to himself. <em> Could have been anything </em>. </p><p> </p><p>But even as he thought it, he knew that wasn’t the case. It was just too much of a coincidence that the mer would be here, swimming underneath a group of now deceased mers. He’d seen what he was capable of, and despite thinking that this group would have been too much for even him to handle, Clark knew it wasn’t. Given how Clark had found Blue when they’d first met, he had a feeling this sort of thing was normal for him.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark ended up waiting for the mer to reappear. He debated going back to the island now that he knew he was somewhat safe, but he also wanted to stay close by should more mers show and Blue needed to make a hasty retreat. Not that he would, mind you. Clark had a feeling short of dying, the mer wouldn’t back down from a fight. </p><p> </p><p>So he waited. And waited. And waited some more. It was soon midnight, and despite being here for a few hours now, the mer still hadn’t shown up. Clark again debated going back to land and waiting for him there rather than in open water, surrounded by the dead, but he still didn't move, opting to remain where he was even as the sharks rolled in and started the process of getting rid of the bodies.</p><p> </p><p>The other reason Clark remained was because he could finally hear Blue get closer. The beating was growing louder, faster, though only just. Really, he could have been kidding himself but somehow he knew that wasn’t the case. Blue was swimming up towards him, he was just taking a monumentally long time to do it.</p><p> </p><p>It wasn't long after that, that Clark could hear the familiar sound of Blue’s heartbeat as he knew it. It was no longer changed by the depth, and when he looked into the water, he saw movement, a swishing tail, and not long after that, a face.</p><p> </p><p>Blue poked his head out of the water, grinning.</p><p> </p><p>Clark however wasn’t smiling.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Was this you?” He asked as he gestured out towards the bodies. The current as well as the sharks had displaced most of them, but some still remained close by, poking out from the water.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Blue raised a brow at the bodies, before turning back to Clark and shrugging. </p><p> </p><p>He sighed. Despite knowing it had to have been Blue already, it was still slightly disappointing to have it confirmed. “You know what, I'm gonna assume they tried to attack you first and you were only acting in self defense.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Blue’s ears twitched and a moment later he nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright.” Clark said, narrowing his eyes. “I mean, I don't believe you, but alright.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
The mer pouted up at him at the words, but as Clark’s face remained stoic, he quickly dropped the act with a roll of the eyes. He then lifted up what was in his hands, holding it out above the water.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark recoiled at it. “Good fucking God, what is that?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
It was a sack. A sack made from some sort of skin. It dripped with water, glistening and bulbous with whatever was inside. Clark wanted it thrown back down into the depths he had to assume Blue had found it. “Whatever that is, I don’t want it.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
But Blue wasn’t listening, he put the skin sack on the platform, and as Clark tried to continue his protests, he tipped it over, allowing its contents to spill out.</p><p> </p><p>Clark expected guts and vitriol.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe even some rotting whale meat.</p><p> </p><p>What came out instead, was even more of a surprise.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“What--” his mouth fell open, and in a matter of moments his disgust had evaporated into the air, only to be replaced with pure shock. “What the Hell…” he muttered to himself as he stared down at the pile before him.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
It was metal, huge coins of it, some mottled with a deep brown rust. Clark reached for a coin clear of rust, and when he lifted it up, he could see its yellow hue shining bright. As he examined the pile, he saw something else glittering in and amongst the coins.</p><p> </p><p>He set down the coin he was holding, and slid his hand across the pile, pushing it over and revealing more of what was hidden. His finger touched a bluish gemstone and as he lifted it up, Blue pointed at it emphatically, before pointing at his wrist and showing off the bracelet there.</p><p> </p><p>Clark’s eyes blew wide. He thought back to the mers earlier gestures; how he pointed at the bracelet and then at Clark. He let out a shaky laugh as he felt his heart flutter. “Is this a present for me?”</p><p> </p><p>Blue chirped and nodded, going to the pile of gold and pushing it even further apart. There were more gems hidden, and after finding another piece of the blue stone, he held it up to Clark before setting on the ground. He did this a few more times, until there was a small pile of them by Clark’s foot, all glittering in the moonlight.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark’s mouth fell open. He intended to speak, to say anything, and yet as he stared at that small pile of gemstones he found himself incapable. His eyes misted over the longer he looked, and it was only as he closed them and took a deep breath that he could turn his stare towards the mer in the water. “Thank you.” He ended up saying. “This is so sweet. They’re beautiful.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Blue sent him a smug smile and Clark rolled his eyes at the expression. “You’re a humble one, aren't you?” He let out, as he stood up. He made his way into the cabin and found the bucket he used for fishing inside one of the cupboards. He made his way back out and started to put the coins and gems into it. “I gotta ask though, where did you find all this?”</p><p> </p><p>Blue’s head tilted to the side at the question, and after thinking about it, he simply smacked the wooden decking of the swim platform.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“A boat?” Clark ventured.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
A single nod. Then, Blue brought his hands together and then blew them apart.</p><p> </p><p><em> Bigger. </em> “A ship?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
A nod.</p><p> </p><p>Clark found himself nodding in return as he looked down at the coins. They were old, very old, with words written in a language Clark couldn’t even recognize. “Why did you bring me all this?” Clark asked. “The gems I get, but why the gold?” He asked as he lifted a coin up.</p><p> </p><p>The mer frowned, and then as if to answer his question, he brought a finger up to his face and pointed it at his mouth.</p><p> </p><p>Clark raised a brow. “...You <em>eat</em> these?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Blue rolled his eyes and shook his head. He repeated the gesture again and this time pointed at Clark.</p><p> </p><p>“Uh.” Clark made a face. “I don't eat these, either.” </p><p> </p><p>Clark doesn’t remember seeing the mer look so frustrated, but there he was, hitting his head against the swim platform with a growl. He gave up trying to communicate apparently, opting to slide back into the water with a grumble.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“No, no.” Clark muttered as he watched the mers melodramatics. He went to the edge and reached into the water to tap at the mers head before he descended even further. He soon came back to the surface, glaring up at Clark. “I’m sorry, okay? I'm trying to understand. So let’s just try it again.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Blue rolled his eyes and dove into the water. Clark’s mouth fell open to protest but after a quick burst of movement, he was back up, now holding a small fish in his hands. Clark stared at it. “Okay,” he said, his eyes trained on the writing animal. “Now what?”</p><p> </p><p>Blue held out his hand, and eyed the coin still in Clark’s hand. At the attention, Clark held it up. “You want this?” He asked.</p><p> </p><p>The mer nodded.<br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>Clark handed it over, and after it landed in his palm, Blue dumped the fish on Clark’s lap.</p><p> </p><p>As the thing flopped around, Clark jolted backwards, swiping at the thing. It fell onto the platform, and with a few more wriggles it was back in the water with a plop. Clark let out a sharp breath as he watched it swim away. </p><p> </p><p>The mer didn’t look impressed.</p><p> </p><p>Clark sent him a sheepish smile. “Sorry.” He muttered and at that, the mer only rolled his eyes, holding the coin up to him. Clark spent a moment looking at the doubloon, and as he did he frowned. A coin. Handing it over. Giving him the fish. “Wait.” He muttered. “Are you saying you brought me gold, so I can <em>spend</em> it?”</p><p> </p><p>After a few ear twitches, Blue’s face lit up and he nodded vigorously. Gesturing between the bucket and Clark, and then at himself.</p><p> </p><p>“You brought me gold... So I can buy <em>you</em> things?”</p><p> </p><p>Blue grinned.</p><p> </p><p>"What would you even want, huh?" Clark asked, smiling. "More jewelry?"</p><p> </p><p>Blue shook his head, and once again pointed at his mouth.</p><p> </p><p>"You..." Clark felt a laugh bubbled up inside. "You want me to buy you <em>food</em>?"</p><p> </p><p>Blue’s grin only grew.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
The laughter threatening to come out, finally did and Clark fell back onto the platform as it racked through his body. </p><p> </p><p>His stomach hurt when he finally sat back up, and Blue’s expression was back to being unimpressed. Clark however was still smiling. “I’m sorry, this is just so--” he cut himself off as another laugh threatened to come out. “You gotta admit, this is hilarious.”</p><p> </p><p>Despite his expression, Clark carried on, his smile still there if a little muted. “This is sweet of you, but that stuff I showed you yesterday can also be used to feed you. That was money, too. So whilst this is nice, I don’t really need it.”</p><p> </p><p>Blue took in the words, and then made that same growl of frustration. Clark tried to prevent it from getting louder. “Hey, hey.” Clark said softly, and Blue’s growl stopped. “I'm not saying I don't appreciate it, I guess I just…” but Clark made a face at his own words and shook his head. “No, that really does sound like I don’t appreciate it, doesn't it?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
At that, Blue raised a brow and gave a single slow nod. Clark smiled. “I’m sorry for laughing. This was really sweet of you, but I mean it, I don't even know what i’d spend all this on. You don't exactly eat so much that I'd require literal pirate gold to feed you.” But as Clark said the words, his mind was suddenly elsewhere. He thought beyond food and realised the list of possibilities this money afforded him was larger than he realised.</p><p> </p><p>He had been living below his means since moving to the island. Not because he enjoyed sleeping in a cramped cot or shitting in a poorly ventilated outhouse, but because using the money he did have meant having to acknowledge how he’d acquired that money in the first place, and thinking about his job and life before the quake often brought with it a whole host of bad thoughts he’d rather not deal with. At times, it was better to pretend that part of his life never even happened. </p><p> </p><p>But as earlier today had proved, he was getting better at delving into his past without dealing with the subsequent breakdown it created. For one, he was looking forward to trying on his new clothes tomorrow, and as he stared at the pile of gold coins beside him, he wondered if there were more things he could buy that would give him that same feeling of excitement over what the future would bring. A bigger tub for Blue to sleep in. A bigger bed for himself. Maybe that was what the mer was getting at when he pointed at himself. Food was part of it, sure, but maybe he had bigger ideas in mind than Clark was giving him credit for.</p><p> </p><p>And the more he thought about it, the more the idea took shape. He could build a whole new home for himself, or better yet, pay someone to do it for him. Whilst he did still have his savings, he knew realistically it would only allow himself to extend how he already lived and wasn’t going to give him the opportunity to change it. </p><p> </p><p>With this however, he might be able to.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright.'' Clark said, with a slow nod. “You win. With all this, I'm gonna buy you the biggest fattest steak I can find and see what else I can do about fancying up the island.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Blue smiled brightly, his tongue darting across his lip as he pushed himself up onto the platform, darting forward towards Clark and kissing him brusquely. Clark brought his hand up and curled it around his neck holding him there for a moment before pulling back. The mer smiled once more before wiggling fully out of the water, across the platform and lounging there.</p><p> </p><p>Clark debated going back to land now that the mer was aboard, but as he now had a reason to venture out to a larger city the next day, it seemed like a waste of time to go all the way back home only to head out once more come morning. It was a risk sleeping out in open water, but he’d done it before and as of yet, hasn’t had to deal with any mers trying to tip him. “I’m gonna go to bed, you gonna sleep out here?”</p><p> </p><p>As he asked the question, he already knew what the mers response was going to be. Blue nodded his head and remained where he was. Clark understood. Given the mer activity around these parts, even with a few now dead in the water, Clark could tell Blue wasn’t going to leave the area especially whilst Clark was asleep.</p><p> </p><p>It reminded him of the last time Blue had stayed here with him. Watching over him as he slept. At any moment he, or any mer could have dragged him in, and yet he awoke that morning safe and untouched. </p><p> </p><p>He turned away then, intent on going to his bedroom, but upon seeing Blue lying uncomfortably along the wooden planks, Clark pursed his lips.</p><p> </p><p>He went into his cabin, and pulled the mattress off the frame. He brought the sheets and blankets along with him, and dragged them all out onto the platform. Blue raised a brow at him, but Clark simply shrugged a shoulder. “Can’t leave you alone out here, can I?” </p><p> </p><p>Blue sat up at that, chirping as he wiggled to the side to allow Clark to set down the mattress. It was still a single, but he hoped it being on the floor would mean it wouldn’t feel like he was going to fall off the edge as easily given the two grown bodies that would be trying to sleep in it.</p><p> </p><p>After getting the sheets and bedding situated, the mer made his way onto the mattress and Clark came in behind him. With the mers still damp hair by his face, Clark brought his arm around him, and tried to sleep.</p><p> </p><p>As he laid there though, he wondered what he had been thinking only a few minutes prior. </p><p> </p><p>In the moment, the idea seemed fine, sweet even, but with the mer now curled up against him, and the gentle rocking of the boat causing their bodies to move against one another, Clark found himself cursing his own idiocy. </p><p> </p><p>For the most part he was able to ignore his burgeoning erection with nothing more than will power. He forced his mind away from the situation and when that started to wain, he pulled his crotch back slightly, even though it meant his body was half hanging off the edge of the mattress. He found he didn’t care though, as the alternative was still too much for him to deal with in the present moment.</p><p> </p><p>In between the haze of trying to keep certain areas of himself at bay and sleep, morning came. He saw the sun slowly rise across the water, and when he sat up right and rubbed the sleep from his eyes he saw Blue still there next to him, asleep.</p><p> </p><p>Clark left him for now and went inside. He fixed himself up some breakfast and by the time he was walking back out, Blue had sat up, squinting up at Clark as he chirped. Clark fought back a smile as he stared at the mers hair, sticking out in every direction. “How'd you sleep?” Clark asked sweetly as he bit into a slice of toast.</p><p> </p><p>The mer growled and fell back into the bed, pulling the sheet over his head. Clark looked out of the water at the sun still rising. “Yeah, I don't think that sheet’s gonna block out the sun very well.” He said as he crouched down beside the mer. “Come on, it's morning anyway. Time to get up.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Another growl, but this one was higher, in fact Clark would have even classified it as a whine. He laughed. “Come on now, I gotta get going. I'm heading to Sacramento today.”<br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>That at least caused the mer to pull the bedding down as he now glared up at Clark. Clark took another bite of toast. “Well, I gotta get a birthday present for Marcos for one, and i'm also gonna see if I can get the gold you brought me appraised.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
He didn’t know Sacramento all that well, but if it was anything like Metropolis had been, it was going to have an industry dedicated to appraising this sort of thing. Wrecks were all too common after all, whether it be something as small as a fishing boat or something as large as a passenger liner. Throughout history there have been cases of boats sinking and being lost to the waves, and Clark had to assume the doubloons he now had were from one such ship; lost in a time that no one currently alive on the planet had ever known.</p><p> </p><p>In the past, these things were thought totally lost, with the mers making it all but impossible to venture deep into the waters and find them, but as humans have grown more advanced, so too have their technologies.</p><p> </p><p>Submersibles and remotely operated vehicles allow for some to explore the seas. Most still see it as a needlessly risky venture, as even travelling across the surface of the ocean is too dangerous in some areas. And yet, there are still people who use these means to try and cash in on the things that most assumed would be gone forever; the sort of people who would dive into the water and push past the skeletons and destroyed cargo to find anything of value. </p><p> </p><p>Those people, in Clark’s mind, are morons. </p><p> </p><p>Fishing is one thing. Shipping is another. But people who voluntarily go down into the water just to try and get some easy money were not the kind of people Clark expected to survive long.</p><p> </p><p>And yet, the people who did it, still continue to do so. From what Clark knew about the folks who had made a living from it in Metropolis; they were nothing short of the luckiest folks around, going into the water and retrieving anything from priceless artifacts to sunken treasures as though they weren't venturing into a literal death trap every time.</p><p> </p><p>Perhaps it was just luck, or maybe there were others factors involved that Clark didn't know. What he did know though, was that just like most cases, greed was one hell of a motivator here. Whilst he, as well as the better part of society, might try to convince people not salvage wrecks, there will always be folks who will; the potential pay day being too much for some to ignore.</p><p> </p><p>And the great irony was that Clark was technically going to be one of them.</p><p> </p><p><em> Well, not entirely, </em> he thought as he looked at the mers still sleepy face. <em> The mer did all the heavy lifting.  </em></p><p> </p><p>“Alright now,” he said, pulling the blanket from him entirely. “Swim back home.”</p><p> </p><p>When the mer didn’t budge, Clark crouched down with a sigh. “Come on now, don’t make me throw you in.”</p><p> </p><p>The mer grumbled, and at a glacial speed slowly made his way into the water, before falling into it with a splash. He came back up and resumed his earlier glaring at Clark. “Don’t gimme that, it's dangerous near Sacramento, too. Just wait for me back at the island, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>He could tell the mer didn’t want to, so Clark came forward and placed a single kiss on his forehead. “Don’t pout.” He muttered, giving another kiss. “I'll buy you a steak while I’m there, so just go on home, and I’ll be back before you know it.”</p><p> </p><p>That had the intended effect as the mer now nodded, his face less forlorn than it had been moments ago. He chirped and then dove into the waves, swimming back towards where Clark’s island laid, leaving Clark free to continue onward to Sacramento.</p><p> </p><p>It was less busy than it had been on his previous visit. There were still a whole host of boats littering the docks, but Clark found the noise of it all less overwhelming, in fact, the more he walked the more he found that was the case. </p><p> </p><p>Even the people milling around the streets didn’t phase him as much, and as cars breezed by only to be halted by the city's traffic, he found his palms only growing slightly damp. It was still there, the ever present anxiety, but it had lessened considerably, and it allowed him to take the city in properly as he walked through it.</p><p> </p><p>And it was on his walk, bucket in hand, that he found where he was looking for. A salvage shop. There were a few of them there, side by side, but as Clark peeked into the three of them, it was the one in the middle that ended up drawing him in.</p><p> </p><p>As he stepped inside, he took in the room. There were several men around the place, one was at the front counter, and two were sitting at desks. The last stood and noted things on a clipboard. The place had the smell of salt water, as well as what Clark was learning to recognize as rusted metal. The most notable thing Clark noticed however, was the men's attire. </p><p> </p><p>It appeared to be a uniform, but it was somewhat unusual one given the time of year; all the men wore turtlenecks, black in colour. Even with the air conditioning, Clark wondered how they could wear something so stifling. </p><p> </p><p>In fact the place was so warm, Clark found himself swiping a bead of sweat from his forehead as he ventured further inside. The man at the front desk looked up at him, before sending him an easy smile. “Ahoy hoy.” He said as he set his newspaper down. “What can the Darton family do for you today?”</p><p> </p><p>“Uh, yeah.” Clark said as he placed the bucket on the table. “I was doing some salvaging and--”</p><p> </p><p><br/>
“Were you now?” The man said as he sent a small smile upwards to Clark. Something in his gaze made him look away and the man rose up from his seat. He peered into the bucket and whistled. “Well, fuck me, you had a good dive.” He muttered, and as his eyes slid back onto Clark, they traveled up along his neck.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.” Clark said, pursing his lips. “Very good.”</p><p> </p><p>The man's gaze lingered on him a while longer, and without a word, the men with a clipboard came behind the counter, reaching into the bucket and picking up a coin. “Wow.” He let out, before setting his clipboard down and readjusting his glasses. “You mind if I take a closer look at these?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Sure.” Clark said, stuffing his hands into his pockets. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>The man picked up hand full of the buckets contents, and went to the backroom. After a few minutes he came back out and placed them on the counter. “You’ve got a nice mix here. Most of them are gold; these ones here--” he gestured to the ones completely clear of rust. “Gold doesn’t rust in the water, but that isn’t to say these ones aren’t valuable.” He said as he pointed to the dull coins mottled with rust. “These are silver.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“They are?” Clark asked, looking at the near black metal. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, silver rusts pretty badly in salt water, but it's nothing a little cleaning won’t fix.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<em> Silver rusts in salt water. </em> Clark found himself grimacing as he came to grips with the fact that he, only yesterday, brought a <em> mer </em> a silver bracelet. “Uh huh.” He said more to himself.</p><p> </p><p>“But like I said, we can clean and process all of the metal you have here in fact. Even the aquamarines.” </p><p> </p><p>Clark shook his head. “The stones I'll keep, but the metal, how much are you thinking it's all worth?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Well,” the man learned back, his face growing thoughtful. “If this bucket is full of authentic doubloons, and they’re all the same quality of the ones I tested, given the price of gold and silver at the moment i’d say…” he trailed off, his eyes squinting in concentration. “Between five hundred thousand to a million.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark couldn’t help it, his mouth fell open. “Huh?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“It's a big ball park figure as I don't know how much gold versus silver is in there. I'm also just going by how much it looks like it weighs. I’d need to weigh it all and find out the concentrations but yeah, I'd say somewhere in that region.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah yeah…” Clark said, waving his hand. “But you’re saying this shit could be worth a <em> million </em> dollars.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Potentially.” He said with a nod. “Though I must add that if we were to appraise and process it for you, we’d take a cut of the profits as our handling fee. It would still leave you with a sizable amount, though.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“How much is that?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Twenty five present, which I know is a little high compared to our competition, but we are the most experienced in the city, have the best contacts, and hey, best case scenario you'd still be walking away with three quarters of a million.” </p><p> </p><p>Clark wasn’t exactly in the mood to try and shop around for a better deal, so he simply nodded. “Works for me.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Perfect.” The man said, and without another word, the man at the counter stood up and took the bucket. “We’ll weigh it all and see the quality we’re dealing with. It will most likely take us a an hour, but once we know the amounts we’re dealing with, we’ll write up a contract for you. Once it's signed, it will take another month or so for us to process the coins, but when all is said and done, we'll wire transfer you your share. Easy as that.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark frowned. “Uh, what if I don't have access to my bank account?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
The two men shared a look. Even the men behind him now turned towards him. Though they were all silent, Clark could almost feel the conversation going on between them. “I'd try and get access, or, set one up a new one.” The man with glasses said, tilting his head. “Considering the amount we’re dealing with here, I’m sure you can imagine giving you cash for it all would be difficult. There is a bank along Angrave road that we usually do business with. I’d try there.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Right.” Clark said with a nod. “I'll be back in a few hours then. It was a pleasure--” he held out his hand.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Jake.” The man with glasses said. “This is my brother Sid.” He gestured to the man next to him. “And the two behind you are our other brothers, Mickey and Gus.” When Clark turned he saw the two in question facing him. They both waved.</p><p> </p><p>“Right.” Clark nodded. “All brothers, huh? This really is a family business.” He said to which all the men nodded. Clark gestured at himself. “I’m Clark.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Well, Clark,” Jake said before picking up his clipboard. “As I said, come back in a little while and we’ll have everything ready waiting for you.” </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah…” he said as he went to leave. “I better go to the bank, huh?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“That probably would be best.” Jake said with a smile.</p><p> </p><p>So that was what Clark did. He ventured down Angrave road as he was told and as he looked up at the signage he knew it looked familiar. It was his old back. Well, not the one he used to frequent, but it was the same branch. </p><p> </p><p>As he stepped inside though, he could almost convince himself it was his old bank. It had the same furniture, the same carpeting, hell, even the smell was familiar and upon that revelation he had to sit down in one of the chairs lest he get even more lightheaded.</p><p> </p><p>In the end it, the whole process wasn’t as difficult as Clark thought it would be. With his ID, and a bit of time the teller was able to gain access to his account, as well as order a new bank card for Clark as he still didn’t actually know where his old one was. He’d need to pick it up in a few days time, but other than that, his account was back in action.</p><p> </p><p>He also made sure to let the teller know that he was expecting a large some of money to come in soon, and after throwing the name Darton out there, she seemed to understand. She offered to help take any funds out whilst he was there, and after finding out that the interest on his savings had been better than he anticipated, he took her up on that.</p><p> </p><p>Most people probably wouldn’t stuff wads of notes into the pockets of their khakis in broad daylight, but Clark was not most people, and he wasn’t exactly worried about muggers. </p><p> </p><p>In fact, it was as he left the bank, brazenly counting his money, that he noticed a man walk up to him. Despite the knife hidden in his palm, Clark simply walked past him, using his super speed to throw the blade onto the street. He kept walking, fighting back laughter as he noted the man's apparent confusion.</p><p> </p><p>It was as he was heading back to the shop, that he stopped himself. It hadn’t even been an hour yet, so he had time to kill. He took to window shopping. Furniture as well as a few home improvement stores caught his eyes, and yet, he didn’t stop in any of the ones he saw. He needed to have a better home before he could consider improving it, so he kept walking until he saw a different store and the other reason for his visit came to mind.</p><p> </p><p>Video game boxes, as well as DVD's lined the walls of the store. There were a few glass cabinets holding sleek looking consoles of varying shapes and sizes. Clark was lost just looking at them all, so he approached the register and eyed the meek looking teenager manning it. “I'm gonna be honest, I don't know about any of this stuff. I just need a good present for a twenty year old who likes video games.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Yeah?” The teen asked, before clearing his throat. “How much do you want to spend?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark thought of the money in his pocket. “A lot.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Which was how Clark ended up leaving the place with a brand new handheld console as well as several games for it. The sales assistant said it was the newest one around and the games all sounded like they should be fun. He figured Marcos wasn’t going to already own it given its relatively recent release, but he couldn’t exactly verify that without spoiling the surprise. </p><p> </p><p>So he just had to hope, and it was with that same sense of hope that he walked back into the Darton shop and found Jake behind the counter. The rest, Clark noticed, were in the back room, and upon entering, Jake looked up at him with a grin. “Ah, Clark. Good to see you.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Am I on time?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“You are indeed.” Jake said as set his board down and slid it towards Clark. “We’ve weighed it all and have a good idea as to its concentration. Turns out, the coins are mostly gold and we even have a few of them dated and know a few collectors who’d pay a premium for them, so the amounts I quoted were actually on the low side.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark huffed a small laugh. “You’re kidding.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Nope. It's gonna be closer to one point five mil gross, and even after our service cut, you’re looking at over a million.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s--” Clark couldn’t believe it. In fact, he was expecting to hear the word ‘sike’ at any moment.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s a Hell of a find, I would ask you where you diving but I can't imagine you’d be eager to share the location.” Jake smirked.</p><p> </p><p>“Haha, yeah…” Clark said as he rubbed the back of his neck. It wasn’t as if Clark could even divulge where exactly it had come from. He just knew it was deep.</p><p> </p><p>“Anyway, you just need to sign here and fill in your details and we will be able to transfer you the money as and when it comes in. Finding buyers and shipping it around can take time so we usually say it will takes at least a month for all funds to go through. We also state in the contact that the amount I quote can be off, depending on what buyers actually pay for it, but you should still get something close to the quoted amount.”</p><p> </p><p>After filling in his details and signing, Clark received a copy for his own records. He folded the paper and slipped it into his shirt pocket before saying his goodbyes. He then picked up his bucket, now only filled with a handful of gemstones.</p><p> </p><p>As he went to leave, Jake sent him a nod. “Thank you for your business.” He let out, but at the words, his mouth didn’t close. He instead sent a furtive glance to the side room that housed his brothers, before whispering to Clark with a smile. “Be sure to thank your assistant when you get home.”</p><p> </p><p>Clark paused at that. “My assistant?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Jake only smiled. “Come on now, we’re not dumb. You had help, right?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark's frown only grew, as did the redness in his cheeks. <em> Could he mean..? </em></p><p> </p><p>Jake must have noticed something was wrong as he quickly shook his head. “Never mind, forget I said anything. Have a good day, Clark.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark wanted to drop it, but the question stuck with him, even as he made his way back to the dock. <em> You had help, right? </em>It didn’t sound like an accusation, simply an observation, an accurate one, Clark might add. And yet, hearing it had Clark's heart pounding. After what had happened only a few days prior, he felt the need to try and keep Blue even more of a secret. He couldn’t trust anyone with what he knew, and even acknowledging the mers presence in his life with someone Clark didn’t trust implicitly felt like a step too far.</p><p> </p><p>So with that, he simply tucked away the conversation into the part of his brain he rarely ventured into.</p><p> </p><p>Once back on the boat he was able to take the aquamarines out of the bucket and look them over more thoroughly. They were in rough chunks, unlike the ones on the bracelet he’d brought. But these were beautiful in their own right, perhaps even more so for the way the harsh edges caught the light. He set one down on the console of his boat, intending to place the others around his home when he returned.</p><p> </p><p>That thought only made him realise how few places he actually had to decorate.</p><p> </p><p><em> All the more incentive to change that</em>, he thought.</p><p> </p><p>Upon arriving home he stepped off the boat and found Blue under the jetty. Clark crouched down by the edge and lent over. “I’m back.” He yelled somewhat redundantly, considering the mer’s eyes were already cracked open in his direction.</p><p> </p><p>The mer called out to him, and in the water Clark could hear the somewhat musical quality of it, though that stopped the moment he poked his head out and it transformed into its usual hellish screech. Clark winced. “Sorry. Did I wake you again?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
A single nod was the answer, but other than that, Blue only held up his arms to Clark who in turn rolled his eyes. “Alright, your majesty.” Clark said as he brought his arms around the mer and lifted him up and over his shoulder. It might have been caused by the undignified position or the burst movement, but the mer let out a loud squawk as Clark picked him up and moved him into the cabin.</p><p> </p><p>Once settled in his tub, Clark went back to the boat and picked up the bucket as well as his shopping bag. Upon his return, he took to decorating; setting a gemstone down on his desk, and then another on the window sill. He looked around his home with the last stone in his hand and with pressed lips placed it on the desk next to the other before sending a nod to Blue. “I’ll figure out where to put it later.” He said.<br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>Blue chirped in a way that told Clark that he agreed with the sentiment. He then pointed at the empty bucket and then at Clark. Who only nodded. “Yeah, I got the metal evaluated.” Clark sent him a smile. “I had no idea you were so rich.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Blue grinned at that, pointing to himself then at his bracelet and chirping. He kept repeating the gestures and Clark sat down with a small laugh. “Once it's been processed and I've got the money, I was thinking…” he trailed off and tented his hands. “I was thinking of doing the island up, maybe get you a bigger pool to sleep in and stuff.” He looked at the metal tub and pursed his lips. “Get a bathroom, a real kitchen…” Clark smiled. “It would be nice.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
More nods, but this time instead of chirping Blue only pointed at his mouth. Clark laughed again. “Yeah yeah, i'd get you food too, i’d--”</p><p> </p><p>But he cut himself off. “Fuck.” He muttered before sending Blue a sheepish grin. “Uh… I may have forgotten to get you some steak while I was out.”<br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>All at once Blue’s face dropped and he brought his hands down into the water in dismay. He frowned and began screeching. Clark only held up his hands in submission. “I'm sorry, okay? I got distracted, I was buying a birthday present for Marcos and--”</p><p> </p><p>The screeching only grew louder and rather than remain sitting there, Blue pushed himself out from the tub towards Clark, colliding against him with such force that Clark’s chair tipped back and they both smacked against the floor. The wind was knocked out of him in an instant, and as he looked up, Blue was there baring his teeth above him. As he did, Clark couldn’t help but think that this would be the last thing that most creatures that went up against Blue would see. An apex predator poised to strike, bearing down on their victim with unrestricted power. </p><p> </p><p>And yet, Clark wasn’t exactly feeling ‘fear’ in that moment.</p><p> </p><p>As he looked up at Blue, he felt his heart pounding.<em> Please don’t tell me this is waking something in me. </em> He thought to himself as his half hard cock was brought to his attention. Blue was still growling, his claws curling into Clark’s shirt and ripping it slightly.</p><p> </p><p><em> Yeah, no, this definitely awoke something. Fuck. </em>He pursed his lips and tried to move but found that Blue was even more of an immovable lump when he so chose to be. He bared down on Clark, and despite his best efforts, ground down against his cock.</p><p> </p><p>Clark moaned, and at the sound, Blue’s ears began to twitch. In an instant, his growling stopped and was replaced with a curious chirp that had Clark growing red. “Uh, that was nothing, just--” </p><p> </p><p>Blue repeated the movement, and the jolt that ran through Clark’s body felt like lighting; setting off every nerve in his body and leaving him reeling. Clark's head fell backwards, and he brought his hand to his face to try and mask the redness. “Stop that!”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
But Blue expression changed once more, the curious look slowly disappeared and a slow grin replaced it. He wiggled again and Clark bit down onto his hand to try and stop himself from making any more sounds, but if anything Blue took that as a challenge and came in close, bringing his lips up to Clark’s ear and licking it.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh <em> fuck. </em>” Clark let out. This was too much. Actually, half a minute ago it was too much. Now it was so much that Clark couldn’t actually see anything other than the overwhelming muchness that was swallowing him. He steeled himself and brought his hands up to Blue and pushed him away, slipping out from underneath him and clambering up right. </p><p> </p><p>Blue looked up at him from the floor, a bored stare his only response as he reclined against the wood. “You really are a little gremlin.” Clark muttered as he tried and failed to flatten the front of his pants. His erection was even more obvious now, but he simply turned away from the mer and stormed outside.</p><p> </p><p>He wasn’t mad per say, he wasn’t even annoyed, if anything he was mind meltingly aroused, wondering just what the fuck he was doing by walking away from an opportunity to rectify that.</p><p> </p><p>But something was stopping him; that fear of the unknown. Despite seeing with his own eyes evidence to the contrary; the idea that all of this was nothing more than a ruse came back to him, and it had Clark’s heart aching. <em> I thought you said you were fine using him. </em> His mind supplied as he made his way towards his boat. <em> If he’s just toying with you, what guilt should you have over taking advantage of that?   </em></p><p> </p><p><em>What if he isn’t though. </em>Another part of him said as Clark stepped onto the boat. He brought his hands to his face, trying to even his breathing. <em>What if all of this is genuine?</em></p><p> </p><p>He actually didn’t know what was worse. The idea that the mer really was toying with him, or if he really felt the same way Clark did. Both offered with them their own respective can of worms, and in that moment, it seemed that the can Clark would be opening had everything to do with how close he was to his breaking point.</p><p> </p><p><em> Just don’t think about it </em> . He settled on. <em> If you don’t think about it, you can’t get overwhelmed. Simple. </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <strike> <em> Right, because that has worked for you so well in the past. </em> </strike>
</p><p> </p><p>“God damnit…” he muttered to himself as he slid down the door of the boat. Why he came here he still didn’t know, perhaps he simply wanted distance, and yet, a part of himself far less jaded than the rest had the real answer. He made his way to the console, and slipped his keys into the ignition.</p><p> </p><p>He returned home a few hours later, half expecting the mer to be back under the jetty, but he wasn't. He was back in the tub when Clark stepped inside. The chair was still tipped over, and a few things from his desk were on the floor, but Clark righted them both quickly and then set his shopping bag down on the counter. “Hey.” He said.</p><p> </p><p>Blue cracked an eye open, but then shut it again.</p><p> </p><p>Clark could understand the mers lack luster response, so he let out a sigh. “Oh well, if you’re asleep, guess i’ll be eating all this meat by myself.”</p><p> </p><p>Blue’s eyes burst open.</p><p> </p><p><br/>
“Yeah, I thought that would work.” Clark smirked as he pulled the packets out meat he had out of the bag. “I went to Manton. Their selection was pretty limited, but I did get you a steak, and me some chicken.”</p><p> </p><p>The mer didn’t seem to be listening as he clambered out of the tub towards Clark’s legs. He pulled at the edge of his pants and pointed to the packets. Clark only smiled. “Patience, Blue. I still gotta cook it.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Which is what he did. He set the pan on the flame and cooked the steak a minute a side. Once done, he passed it straight from the pan Blue’s way and the moment it was in his hands it was being ripped apart by his jagged teeth. Clark grimaced at the sounds of flesh being ripped and chewed so turned his attention back to cooking. He had barely put his chicken in the pan before Blue was tugging at his pant leg once more, looking up at him with wide eyes. Clark balked. “You're kidding right? I just gave it to you!”</p><p> </p><p>Blue pointed at his mouth.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark sighed. “I told you. I don't have any more. I only went to Manton, and they didn’t have much beef today.” Clark looked at the pan where his chicken was sizzling away. “I only have chicken left, but I know you don't--”</p><p> </p><p>But Blue was ignoring him, reaching up onto the counter and taking one of the packets that was there.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Whoa whoa.” Clark snatched it from him. “This is raw, you gremlin. You remember last time, don’t you?" At Blue's blank expression, Clark rolled his eyes. "Well <em>I</em> do. And I for one don't want a repeat of it.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Blue glared at him, and then pointed at the packet and nodded his head. Clark rolled his eyes. “Nice try, but I told you--”</p><p> </p><p>In the moments Clark was speaking, Blue reached for the pan, grabbing the handle and bringing it down to the floor. He was smart enough to not touch the metal at least, but still scooped the half cooked chicken up and brought it to his lips. Clark all but yelped. “No, you--” he crouched down and snatched the chicken from Blue’s mouth, though not before he could bite down on it. Clark let out a strained sigh. “I told you! This is raw! You’re gonna get sick again.”<br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>But Blue only shook his head, reaching for the chicken despite Clark moving his hand further away.</p><p> </p><p>His persistence, whether it was misplaced or not, caused Clark to concede and with a reluctant frown he handed the wad of meat back to Blue who resumed his munching. Clark brought the pan back to the flame and remained quiet as he unpacked the other chicken breast and cooked it. As he did so, he watched Blue in his periphery and tried to not let images of the last time Blue ate chicken flood his mind.</p><p> </p><p>And yet, even after eating it, and even as they went to sleep; the emetophobic nightmare Clark was expecting never occurred. Even as the morning came, the mer seemed fine and as the day went on, that was still the case. </p><p> </p><p>Clark wondered how that was possible, but in the end he chose not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Maybe the mer’s stomach was stronger than he thought. Maybe last time was a fluke. Maybe it was nothing more than bad timing. Who really knew.</p><p> </p><p>What Clark did know though, was that the mer was full of surprises and in a weird way he was looking forward to learning more of them.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Every time I start a chapter I'm like 'oh God, I have nothing, I've written like 500 words, this is so bad' and then like, a few hour goes by and i'm like 'how the fuck did 8000 words show up.'</p><p>Anyway, I hope you all liked this chapter! Clark is wealthier, Blue is still a gremlin, and more mysteries and curiosities come to light ;) I also had fun writing more Blue and Clark antics. They are such disasters &lt;3 (Also lets be real, Clark being into Blue's primal side is a given and will defo be something I will be exploring ;) ) </p><p>As always, let me know your thoughts and I hope you all liked this chapter! Until next time :D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Chapter 21</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Waiting. That was how Clark spent the next few days; he lay in wait, expecting at any moment for Blue to fall ill. He waited, and waited, and waited some more, but even as the day came to an end and they both awoke the next morning, the mer remained</span>
  <span> as he had been; perfectly fine.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Despite knowing he should be thankful for that small mercy, Clark, as with most things in his life, was preparing for it to all go to Hell at a moment's notice and as such, wasn’t about to rest on his laurels just because the mer </span>
  <em>
    <span>looked</span>
  </em>
  <span> fine. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But slowly, as more of those long August days came and went, that fear left his mind altogether.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Which was why he was particularly blindsided upon waking this morning.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Of course the moment all thoughts of illness had left his mind, he’d wake to find that Blue was nor longer 'perfectly fine'. He had been grumbling the day before, but Clark had simply chalked it up to his usual grumpiness and moved on with his day. Now it seemed as though that grumbling had a far deeper meaning and it was only now causing Clark to grow concerned. He jumped off his bed and crouched beside the mer, his hand gingerly reaching for him. “Hey… You okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The mer’s hand was over his stomach, and after giving a few curt shakes of the head, Clark’s frown only grew. “What do you need?” He asked. “You wanna stay in here or go in the water?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was no response for a while, and Clark wondered if perhaps Blue was using his energy to prevent another vomit spectacle from occurring rather than to try and answer his question. So he’d waited there beside him, and only when the mer looked at the door and shook his head did Clark speak. “Okay, we’ll stay inside. You wanna lay on the bed or stay in the tub?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This time, he glanced at the bed and nodded. Clark moved his arms to either side of the mer, and gently lifted him from the water before laying him along the mattress. Now that he was there, the strain on the mer’s face seemed to dissipate, but his lips still remained curled into a tight frown. Clark brought his own hand to his stomach, just underneath where the mer’s own lay. It looked bloated, and felt warm to the touch, but as Clark wasn’t any closer to understanding mer biology-- despite now being in a relationship with one-- he didn’t know what that even meant. He had to assume it was bad if Blue’s reaction was anything to go by, but whether it was ‘leave it alone and it will sort itself out bad’ or ‘leave it alone and it will only get worse bad’ was still up for debate.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Obviously, he wished it was the former. That had been the case last time after all, and upon that thought he tried to remember more from those days where the mer was sick. He was so sure it had been the chicken, but as he trailed through his memory that idea became somewhat murky. He’d been bitten that morning, and whilst Clark was patching him up, he assumed the grumbles and winces were wholly from the bite, but the longer he thought about it, the less sure he became. He had seemed off that whole day, in fact upon refelction, it was strange for him to have even gotten bitten in the first place given how capable he was of avoiding them usually. It was only now, as Clark was seeing a strange repetition of it all, that</span>
  <span> he thought something else must have been afoot here.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For one, Clark had been surprised the chicken had affected him so much in the first place. Clark thought of the whale; which was now unrecognizable given how much of the meat was now gone, and knew for a fact the mer still nibbled at it, yet under cooked chicken was too much for his stomach? It didn't sit right with Clark at the time, and today was no different. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He moved his hand gently from side to side across the warm skin, and the mer seemed to appreciate it; giving an appreciative purr with each press of Clark’s hand. He kept it moving, and with the other tugged the metal tub closer to the bed, should the mer need it for one reason or another. When he turned back to Blue, he saw those eyes on him. “You need anything?” He asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The mer shook his head, and only brought his hand up to gingerly take hold of Clark’s as it moved. “You want me to stop?” He asked. Blue shook his head, vigorously this time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay...” Clark said softly, continuing the movement. “You know why you’re not feeling good? You eat something you weren’t meant to, or..?” He trailed off at the question. That was still what his mind dwelled on. Food. The mer seemed indestructible, and Clark couldn’t fathom something as mundane as a stomach bug or the flu being the cause of the mer’s anguish. It had to be something else, but what that could be still eluded him. For better or for worse, he wondered what someone who actually knew a thing or two about mers would say in his place.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Then let me examine him! If you say this black fin is an anomaly, let me see for myself. You needn't give him to me, but I will pay you whatever amount you desire simply for the opportunity to look at him.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clark frowned at the memory. Despite how much he wanted to ignore the idea of ever taking Blue to Elijah voluntarily, he couldn't deny that the mer’s condition was something that worried him. Last time he had been left emaciated by his illness, and Clark didn’t want to imagine it happening once more.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was why he had been so worried about the chicken, why he watched the mer so intently over those next few days. If he were to get sick, Clark hoped that this time, he’d be better prepared to deal with it, maybe even stop the worst of it before it left Blue thin and helpless once more. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That was something at least, Clark thought. He wasn’t vomiting this time around, so Clark held onto that. Maybe he still could prevent a repeat of last time. “Come on, B, talk to me. You eat something bad? Yes or no.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Blue’s head tilted to the side, but when he opened his mouth all that came out was a single long groan that grew higher and higher until it ended with a strained sigh. Clark winced right along with him. “Alright, I get it. Not the best time to ask.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That caused a sharp nod, followed by a series of equally sharp exhales. As he watched him, Clark resumed his thoughts. Whatever was wrong here appeared to be more painful than anything. Of course the lack of vomiting was part of it, but it was also the way Clark could see Blue's stomach tensing as he lay there, as though the muscles themselves were in spasm. <em>Muscle strain?</em>  He thought to himself. It seemed plausible given how much the mer swam. If that were the case, Clark tried to think of something that might help-- something other than seaweed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Damn cramps... Clark, can you grab me the hot water bottle?’ </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span><em>Right</em>, he thought to himself. Lois often used a hot water bottle whenever, as she put, her uterus was trying to kill her. Whilst he knew the mer didn’t have one, he felt the principle was the same in regards to other types of aches.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So he had a solution, not a concrete one and not one that he could confidently say would actually help, but a solution nonetheless. The only problem was he didn’t have a hot water bottle here. Didn’t have any pain medication, either. Really, the more time he and the mer spent together the more he realised how lacking his home truly was.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He only saw one option and with pursed lips he said, “I’m gonna go to Cottonwood real quick. Grab you some stuff that might help.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He knew the mer wasn’t a fan of the idea if his frown was anything to go by, but considering he wasn’t even able to make a single noise of derision bar a low grumble, Clark figured he was just going to have to deal with it. “Before I go, do you need me to grab you anything? Water? Seaweed?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Blue tried to speak, but eventually he just brought his hand to his head and tapped it. Clark made a face. “You have a headache, too?” He ventured.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shook his head, and tapped the center of his forehead once more, his whines growing all the more pathetic. Clark looked at the area for a little while longer and a curious thought entered his mind.</span>
  <em>
    <span> Does he mean…?</span>
  </em>
  <span> He asked himself, and with a great deal of hesitation, he lent forward and pressed his lips there.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Blue finally made a noise that didn’t sound as though pain was its sole and only contributor and that caused Clark to press another kiss onto the warm skin of his forehead before trailing downwards to his lips and placing a single one there. He pulled back, and after clearing his throat, placed his palm across his forehead. “You feel warm, but I don’t think you’re running a temperature, which is something.” Clark pulled his hand away and slid off the bed. “I'll be as fast as I can, just hold tight here, okay?” After throwing on a fresh shirt and slipping on his sandals, he was off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He also wasn’t lying when he said he'd be as fast as he could. Whilst he ordinarily tried to uphold the image of a regular ole human sailor, with his regular ole boat; in times of need he was known to break that perception, though always within reason. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Such as today, where he didn’t even bother to use his boat and simply flew the distance to Cottonwood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>It was as he flew, that he chose to land on the beach on the other side of the island. For one, it was far away from the dock, so the potential questions he might receive from Porter or anyone else as to where his boat was or how he even got there, hopefully wouldn't occur. For another, this side of the island was far less populated and Clark figured he knew why the moment he landed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With only a few errant construction workers milling about nearby, it didn’t take much else to convince him that this must have been Tom’s farm, though calling it a farm now was wholly inaccurate. After all, all of the land had been dug up, with concrete foundations now in place of fields and new stud walls in place of barns. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He noticed the fencing and tape all around the place as well as the sign warning that trespasses would be dealt with. He debated going all the way around the plot, but given he could see the road he needed right across the way, he figured he’d take his chances. He ducked under the tape and kept walking. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The construction workers didn’t notice him as he quickly made his way though and he had just managed to duck under the tape on the other side before he heard a voice call his name.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stilled and turned only to find Walter there with a hard hat waving at him. A woman stood beside him, dressed in clothing that Clark would have thought more fitting for a runway than a construction yard. She too was watching him. He sent them both a nod, hoping that it looked like he was only passing by.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Walter approached him and the women followed a few steps behind. “I thought that was you, having a look at the build, are we?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Yeah.'' Clark said with a curt nod. “Was just passing by and figured i'd stop and look.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you’d like, you could come on in and get a better look. I can get one of the boys to get you a helmet, I was actually showing Ms. Kyle around the place so it would be no trouble at all.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I appreciate the offer, Walter.” He said. “But I got a few errands to run. Maybe another time?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Walter opened his mouth, but as he did, a rather more melodious voice found Clark’s ears instead. “That is a shame, I was rather looking forward to having a little company on the tour.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clark found his gaze drawn to the women, and the moment his eyes found hers, a spark of recognition hit him, only to be swiped away not even a moment later. He knew her, somehow, but from where, he didn’t know. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Walter looked between the two before seeming to remember himself. “Ah, of course introductions.” He held his hand out towards the women. “Ms. Kyle, this is Clark, another prospective buyer.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clark made a face at the term. Apparently taking a business card and being polite meant Clark was a ‘prospective buyer’ but he didn’t feel now was the right time or place to try and argue with that, instead he gave a nod. “How do you do, Ms. Kyle.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Clark.” The women repeated, her mouth moving around the word like it was a piece of candy. She sent him a coy smile. “And please, there’s no need for formalities. You can call me Selina.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right.” He said, more to himself. He’d hoped the name would have triggered something, but it didn’t and if anything only had him growing more confused. “Well, it was nice to see you Walter, Selina, but I better be going.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He waved to the pair of them as they both made their way further into the construction sight. Despite the heels she wore, Selina navigated the uneven muddy surfaces with a cat-like grace, one that again, only had Clark wondering just what she was doing here. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As he made his way into town, he thought about dropping in to see Lucy. It had been a while since their last chat, and he was somewhat looking forward to a catch up, however brief. In the end he didn’t, as upon looking into the store he saw Barbara talking to a boy about her age inside. Judging by the laughter and gratuitous playing of hair, Clark had a feeling it was a case of a high school flirting and no amount of persuasion would convince Clark it would be a good idea to get in the middle of that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He kept walking and only a few doors down, happened upon the pharmacy. He walked inside and the pharmacist at the counter looked up at him, and upon gazing at her name badge, Clark took it in. Anaya. “Welcome.” She said. “Anything I can help you with today, sir?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Clark had thought to simply trawl through the isles and grab anything and everything he thought might help, but speaking with a healthcare professional seemed like a good idea, even if the health care in question was technically for someone of a different species. “Yeah.'' Clark said as he approached. “My partner has a bad stomach ache. I was looking to get something to help with it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Right.” Anaya said as she set her hands on the counter. “Have they been experiencing any nausea or vomiting?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“No.” Clark said, shaking his head.  “At the moment… They look like they’re in more pain than anything.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And how long has this been going on for?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They seemed a bit out of it yesterday, but it didn’t look like they were in real pain until this morning.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Whereabouts is the pain?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clark gestured to his own stomach. “Around here, maybe lower so more like--” he rested his palm just beneath his belly button and Anaya nodded.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay.'' Anaya let out as her expression grew thoughtful. “If they aren't vomiting and the pain is located lower in the abdomen, it could be anything ranging from constipation to appendicitis. As you can imagine, one is relatively easy to treat with medication and the other is rather serious. I'd suggest visiting your local GP as they’d be better at giving you a concrete diagnosis.”</span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Clark made a face as he swallowed. “That’s not really an option for us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Something in Anaya’s expression changed, and her head tilted to the side. “Is that so?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clark wanted to slap himself the moment the words left his mouth. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Wonderful, idiot, you may as well have told her you're talking about a mer.</span>
  </em>
  <span> His mind scrambled for something, anything, that could justify why going to the doctor was impossible, and as his eyes scanned the leaflets and boxes of medication around him, one idea came to him and it was as though God himself blessed him with the knowledge. “You see, we’re not insured.” Clark said, and as she remained quiet, he went on. “So I was hoping to just grab a few things from here instead.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her face expression remained the same for a few seconds before it softened. She nodded then, sending him an understanding smile. “That’s understandable. A few of my customers are in much the same boat.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Clark said, fighting the urge to let out a sigh of relief. He instead looked around the shelves to try and avoid her gaze. “So is there anything you could suggest?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She made her way from behind the counter to the shelves near Clark and started picking up a few items and setting them down. “Well, if the pain is muscular, I'd say managing it is where you’d want to start. Something like aspirin or ibuprofen will help with the inflammation, maybe even a hot water bottle to soothe the ache. If however the pain is in their stomach or intestines, you’ll need to monitor them more closely; ensure that if they do start vomiting, that there isn’t any blood present, likewise with their stools. If their stool is loose, imodium is the way forward, if they aren't going to the bathroom at all, laxatives would be the alternative, but if it is appendicitis, you will need to see a GP. That is something I cannot help with.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Clark looked down at the small pile of medication, he nodded. “Right, I think that covers the bases then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“I would say so.” Anaya said as she went back around the counter and started ringing him up. “Obviously, I don’t need to tell you not to give all of this to them at once. Try and figure out what their symptoms are telling you and make your choice from there, and of course, if their symptoms do get worse, or the medication isn't working, I would again strongly advise you see a GP. I know it's costly without insurance, but it could be the difference between life and death.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Got it.” Clark said as he pulled out a few notes and handed them over to her in exchange for the small plastic bag. “Thanks for your help.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It was my pleasure, take care.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After leaving, Clark made his way back over to the construction zone. He’d hoped that Selina and Walter had moved onto a different part of the development by now and when he returned he was thankful to find that was indeed the case. He walked through the area without bumping into anyone else, but as he made his way onto the beach, he noticed there was now someone there.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The boy didn’t notice him, opting instead to keep his stare out towards the sea. Clark debated trying to fly away then and there, but as if sensing his presence, the boy then turned and spotted him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As he took in his face, Clark thought boy was probably too inaccurate a descriptor. He was a teenager, the same age as Barbara and the other teen he’d seen in Lucy's shop if he had to guess, and upon seeing Clark, he only raised a single before turning back to the water. “You’re trespassing.” He said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clark huffed at that. “You are too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“No, I'm not.” He said, shaking his head. “My mom bought this dump. My family owns it, ergo, you’re trespassing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You're--” Clark opened his mouth in quiet disbelief. “You’re Selina’s son?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“You know my mom, huh?” He turned back around and eyed Clark. “That why you think it's okay to walk around like you own the place?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“I wasn’t--” Clark cut himself off, heaving a sigh that morphed into an exasperated huff. “Listen kid, I don’t have time for--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It's not ‘kid’.” The teen said. He stood up then and brushed the sand off himself. Watching him, Clark found he was surprised to see how tall he was; how broad his shoulders were. He couldn’t fathom that the woman he had seen could in any way be his mother, and yet, those same green eyes he saw on her, were on him too. “It’s Jason. Asswipe.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Apparently he didn’t inherit her politeness, and Clark only frowned at the derisive sneer on the teens face. “You speak to everyone like that?” He asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“When they’re asswipes like you, sure.” Jason said, as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Also, if you're here to try and bone my mom, just know i'll rip your spinal cord out.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clark rolled his eyes. “And so friendly too, I can see why you’re sitting out here all alone.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alone?” Jason said, with a huff of laughter. “Please. Out here, you’re never alone.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clark saw something then, out in the water. When he focused in he saw the tip of a tail before it descended into the depths. Clark’s mouth fell open, and he felt a wash of understanding come over himself. “That’s a very good point.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What can I say? I’m full of wisdom.” Jason shrugged before making his way past him, and it was only then that Clark noticed the limp in his step. “Bye bye, Mr. Asswipe. Come here again and I’ll call the cops on you.” He called out over his shoulder. By the time Clark turned to reply, the teen was already up off the dune, walking across the dirt ridden construction site.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clark watched him for a little while longer and once he was sure he was alone, he used a quick burst of speed and flew off. Not even a few minutes later, he was back home, walking into his cabin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He found Blue in much the same way he had left him; on the bed, clutching his stomach. Upon looking into the tub, Clark noticed something that looked vaguely like it could have been </span>
  <span>expelled</span>
  <span> from a body in the water, but there was no blood, so Clark didn’t feel the need to do a more thorough examination than that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You feeling any better?” He asked as he sat down on the edge of the bed. Blue looked up at him, and after a few half hearted chirps Clark gathered his answer was a resounding ‘no.’ He only nodded. “Alright, hopefully I got you something that will help…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He dumped the contents of the bag out onto the bed and then turned his attention back to the mer. </span>
  <span> “Okay, now uh, can you go to the bathroom?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Blue made a face and looked into the tub, Clark only shook his head. “Yeah yeah I know-- I <em>saw</em>-- I just meant, did it hurt?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Blue shook his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Okay.” Clark muttered as he swept the imodium and laxatives to the side. “You think you might have strained it yesterday? Your stomach, I mean. Maybe when you were out swimming?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Blue thought for a moment, and then gave a noncommittal shrug, which caused Clark to lift up the hot water bottle. “Either way, I think this will help. I'm gonna go fill it and then you can try taking a few painkillers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He had to go to his boat to fill up the bottle. He only had one kettle in his possession and the small kitchenette in the boat was where it resided. After filling the bottle with the boiling liquid he made his way back inside and passed the bottle over.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The noise Blue made the second it pressed against his stomach was one Clark couldn't help but laugh at. The mer turned to his side and immediately curled around the bottle, rubbing it across the abdomen in long, slow swipes. “So it is muscular, huh? Lois used hot water bottles a lot when she got cramps or sore muscles. They help a ton.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>But Blue wasn’t paying attention anymore, his eyes already drifting closed. Clark could imagine he was tired, if he was in pain for most of the night, sleep must have been difficult. “Before you fall asleep, let's give you something else to help with the pain.” He picked up the packet of ibuprofen and then looked at the dosage. Adults two pills. Children one. Clark made a face. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What, were you expecting them to mer dosages on there?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clark decided that despite the tail, a mer would most likely need the higher dose just like a human adult, so he popped two out of the blister packet and slipped them between the mer's teeth. “Don’t chew on them.” He said firmly, and judging by the mer's grumble he was right to say it. He reached under his bed for a bottle of water, and lifted Blue's head up slightly as he let him take a few draws of it. “Swallow 'em down. It will take a little while for them to work, but it should make the pain go away all together.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After swallowing them, Blue resumed his earlier attempts of sleep, now making the occasional chirp rather than groan. Clark watched him for a moment, and as his breathing evened out Clark found his hand moving towards his face, swiping the strands of hair away and tucking them behind his ear. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As the hours went by, Clark did his chores, and occasionally checked in on the mer. It was as the sun set that he finally awoke, and Clark came back inside. He found the mer on the bed, swiping his hand across his stomach, his face full of confusion. “It's the painkillers.” Clark said as he went towards the bed. “Whatever is causing the pain is still there, but the painkillers just sort of make it go away for a little while. I might need to give you some more if it gets worse again.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Blue nodded at that, though his hand still remained where it was, swiping across the skin. Clark brought his own hand there and felt it. It was still warm, but the spasming seemed to have lessened considerably. “So you have any idea what it is?” Clark asked, hoping now he’d finally be able to get an answer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A shrug was all he got, and Clark found himself sighing. Despite knowing he wasn't going to get a ten page essay on what was wrong with the mer, he had hoped for something other than a single shrug. Perhaps he was in the same boat Clark was in, maybe what he was feeling was entirely new, but if that were the case that only had Clark's worry grow. <em>But if it is appendicitis, you will need to see a GP. That is something I cannot help with. </em></span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Could mer's even get appendicitis? Do they have appendices? Clark didn't know, and that general miasma of unknown was weighing heavy on him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>At least he looks okay now, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he told himself. Whatever was the cause of this strange ache seemed to have been dealt, and as long as it didn’t get worse, Clark felt safe in assuming the mer would be fine. He'd just have to wait and see if that remained the case.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  
  <br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>More mysteries as well as more faces on the island. I wonder what it could all mean? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)</p><p>Also I hope you all enjoyed the art this chapter! On the left is a piece I did of Blue and Clark and on the right is a wonderful piece by the even more wonderful <a href="https://keaghasablog.tumblr.com/">Keagan</a> of Blue!</p><p>I will also put a link to my own Tumblr <a href="https://batman-katflap.tumblr.com/">here</a>. I post my art on there, so if you wanna see it first before I put it in the fic, or even send me an ask, that's the place to go ;) It's pretty much exclusively Superbat themed XD</p><p>Anyway, as always, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. If you did be sure to let me know and I will catch you all on the next chapter! Take care &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Chapter 22</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> Well, at least he didn’t die. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>That was an overstatement of course, or understatement depending on your viewpoint. After all, most people didn’t just keel over dead whenever they got sick. In reality, the fact that Clark breathed such a sigh of relief when Blue started to get better was an overreaction considering the circumstances.</p><p> </p><p>For obvious reasons though, Clark didn’t care. He’d pray to every God going a hundred times over if it meant never having to go through <em> that </em>again. The uncertainty, the anguish, the fear, all of it culminating into a pit of anxiety so deep within Clark that you could drop a penny into it and even as the days rolled by, you still wouldn’t hear it hit the bottom.</p><p> </p><p>That was past him now though, sort of; the pit was still there-- in reality it had been there a <em> very </em> long time, and if anything Blue’s illness only sought to deepen it-- but it had filled in considerably since he began to get better, and really, was starting to feel more like a ditch. A manageable ditch.</p><p> </p><p><br/>
With the painkillers and hot water bottle, Blue never got as bad he had done last time around. He threw up a couple times, sure, but it seemed as though that had less to do with whatever he may or may not have eaten and more to do with his near violent stomach cramps he was experiencing instead. Of course, whenever this happened Clark’s mind immediately took to repeating the word 'appendicitis’ like a claxon until he was sure it was the only word that actually existed. </p><p> </p><p>And yet, despite those fears, as Blue got better, the alarm would lessen, until today where it had all but stopped entirely. Blue was better after all, back to eating, back to swimming, back to annoying the ever loving shit out of Clark.</p><p> </p><p>“I told you.” Clark ground out as he threw the hunk of fish at Blue. “Stop hiding shit in my bed!”</p><p> </p><p>From his tub, Blue didn’t even have the decency to look apologetic, simply picking up the fish and eating it with a roll of the eyes. </p><p> </p><p>Clark didn’t have the energy to berate him further, choosing instead to simply glare at him as he made his way outside. Today was already enough of a weight on his mind, and having Blue return to his usual self only eased him somewhat.</p><p> </p><p><em> Today is the day</em>, he thought grimly as he got himself ready. </p><p> </p><p>August seventeenth. Lois’ birthday. The date of her death. The date of a lot of people's deaths. The date of a whole city--</p><p> </p><p><em> Come on, don’t think about it, </em>and Clark did just that, managing to all but shake those thoughts from his mind by the time he was by the outhouse, and they’d gone almost entirely as he was walking back to his cabin. That was, until he stepped inside and saw the bag sitting beside his desk.</p><p> </p><p><br/>
“Fuck me.” He whispered as he wiped his face. Blue’s ears twitched at the sound and his head tilted to the side. Clark waved him off. “Not you, I'm not mad at you.” He said as he sat down at the desk. “It’s just that I’ve got to go to Cottonwood today.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
He supposed he didn’t actually <em> have </em> to go. After all, Marcos knew what he was going through and seemed as though he’d understand if Clark never showed up. He could even go there tomorrow. Or next week. Yes, Clark could see it now, he’d walk in and say, ‘<em>sorry Marcos, I would have loved to come see you sooner, but the weight of my family's death was particularly bad on your birthday and I just felt like crawling into a hole for a week. Anyway, here's your present.’ </em></p><p> </p><p>Clark heaved a sigh. No. He couldn’t do that to him. In fact, the only thing that had even gotten him out of bed this morning (aside from the fish that he discovered wedged beneath his mattress, of course) was the thought of Marcos all alone at the shop, waiting for him. He couldn’t disappoint him, not today.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s Marcos’ birthday.” Clark said, despite the fact that Blue was paying about as much attention to him as an artistic student in math class. He didn’t even deign to look up at Clark as he got dressed and picked up the bag from the floor. Clark debated just walking out and leaving it at that, but in the end he spoke. “I’ll see you when I get back.”</p><p> </p><p>After the disinterest, Clark expected Blue to remain in the tub long after he had left, but no, the moment he walked out across the sand he heard the tell tale thump followed by the sound of wet skin across the floor. When the sound turned to that of shifting sand, he looked down to find the mer looking back at him, frowning. “What?” He asked.</p><p> </p><p><br/>
The mer pointed at the bag, then at himself.</p><p> </p><p>“No, this isn’t for you. I told you, it’s for Marcos.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Blue shook his head, and reached for the bag.</p><p> </p><p>Clark lifted it up and away.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“It's been there for two weeks, and you haven't touched it, but the second I say it's not for you, you want it.” He shook his head, and despite it all, smiled. “God, you’re a brat...”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Blue managed to look both annoyed and proud at the comment, and rather than try and reach for the bag again, he instead lay across the sand, showing his belly to Clark as he stood there.</p><p> </p><p>For a moment Clark was more confused than anything. He knew Blue’s mind worked in mysterious ways, but for some reason this gesture really threw him. The way he shifted from side to side across the sand in an almost hypnotic motion had Clark staring at the taunt muscles of his midsection intently. “Uh, I don’t know what you’re trying to pull here, but…” </p><p> </p><p>Blue let out a quiet purr, and Clark had to look away as his face grew hot. “Alright. I’m going now.”</p><p> </p><p>But Blue's hand was on his ankle and he made that same noise again; a rumble, low in his throat.</p><p> </p><p><br/>
Where Blue’s hand lay, Clark could feel heat. He knew it was all psychological. Blue was cold to the touch most of the time, and yet, right now, his hand felt sweltering and that heat only seemed to travel upward from him, until it settled in Clark’s belly, causing it to flutter. “God, you’re so--” Clark ground out as he crouched down beside Blue. “What do you want from me?” </p><p> </p><p>Blue didn’t offer any chirps or gestures, he just looked at Clark.</p><p> </p><p>There was something in his stare that only caused Clark’s stomach to grow tighter; for that heat to spread and cause him to have to readjust how he was crouched lest certain parts of himself got the wrong idea. “Look, if you quit acting weird, i’ll get you some beef while i'm at Cottonwood, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>Somehow he knew that wasn’t what Blue wanted, and yet at the words, whatever act he was doing, dropped and he sat up and shimmied the rest of the way to the ocean. As Clark watched, he almost wished he could take it back. He was sure if Blue could have done, he’d have said what he really wanted in that moment, and Clark was certain whatever he had said, he’d have done.</p><p> </p><p>There was no time to dwell on that though. He still had plans after all, so he continued to the boat, but as he did, called out. “Alright, you know the drill, don’t follow me. I’ll be back in a few hours so just keep out of trouble.” </p><p> </p><p>From the water, Blue’s ears twitched, and after a moment he sent Clark a nod before diving down.</p><p> </p><p>On the journey over to Cottonwood, he nearly stopped the boat to yell at Blue for doing exactly what he was asked <em> not </em> to do. After all, if he was going to follow him the least he could do was be subtle about it. Thankfully, it never came to that as Blue did eventually change course, and in the end, Clark heard his heartbeat slow to the same methodical beat that let him know he was deep down underwater.</p><p> </p><p><em> That’s something at least, </em> Clark thought. If he was deep underwater again, it was less likely for humans to get him.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> But more likely for the mers to. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Clark fought the urge to smack himself as the thought came to him. <em> He’ll be fine. </em> He told himself. <em> He is a grown ass mer, he can handle himself and you know it.  </em></p><p> </p><p>The words did little to dissuade the ever present part of Clark’s mind responsible for exaggeration and mistruth. He wondered if that part of himself would ever truly go, but given his track record for these things, he didn’t hold out much hope.</p><p> </p><p>It was part of why he was entertaining the idea of seeing Dinah again. She had helped him long ago and he knew all it would take for it to happen once again was a single phone call. Yet he knew that phone call wouldn’t happen for a long time, not while every part of himself screamed at the mere thought of speaking to her. </p><p> </p><p>He wondered if Diana still spoke to her. <em>Of course she does.</em> Would she have told her about their last conversation? <em>Definitely,</em> Clark’s mind taunted. <em> She’s already well aware of how messed up you are, and you know it.  </em></p><p> </p><p>Yet despite the obvious drawbacks, there was a glimmer of hope nestled in and amongst all that fear; the idea of speaking to someone from his old life, especially one that was trained to help him rather than brate him, was enticing. He knew deep within himself, that no matter what Dinah was told, it would all be put aside should Clark choose to talk to her. She’d feigh a level of ignorance so sincere, that Clark wouldn’t even be able to tell if she were lying or not. It was that level of professionalism that Clark admired about her. </p><p> </p><p>The only issue was that the more Clark thought about it the more that glimmer felt all too insubstantial when compared to all the shit he’d have to shake off to get to it.</p><p> </p><p>Just the idea of speaking to her, the thought of seeing Ollie, or anyone else for that matter. He’d be able to read them with a single look, would be able to see their concern and fear as if they were hanging it around their necks. The judgement, that was what he couldn’t bare to see. He remembers the sight of it on Diana’s face, and he didn’t want anyone else to look at him like that.</p><p> </p><p>As his stomach twisted for what felt like the tenth time that morning, he realised this was something to deal with another day. Whilst it would be a good and most definitely smart idea for him to talk to someone, today was already enough of a weight on his mind that adding to it with the thoughts of seeing his old coworkers again was a recipe for disaster.</p><p> </p><p>He instead tried to focus on the positives of today. For one, Blue was better. For another, he was off to see Marcos, and hopefully the sight of his face upon opening his presents would make Clark think that it really was a good idea to come out today of all days. </p><p> </p><p>After mooring in Cottonwood he made his way up the high street, bags in toe, and whilst he half expected to see the store would be closed today, he wasn't surprised to see it wasn’t. Marcos was inside, sat by the counter in the completely empty store.</p><p> </p><p>The image of him staring down at an open magazine in pure boredom was just like the one Clark had imagined, only in his imagination, he wasn’t here, he was at home under a blanket waiting for the sun to go down and usher in the next day. </p><p> </p><p>Seeing Marcos made him thankful he didn’t decide to do that.</p><p> </p><p>He opened the door and as the bell jingled, Clark heard the tell tale huff of a dog. Clark sent him a nod. “Hey, Lindo.”</p><p> </p><p>Whilst he knew the dog couldn’t exactly nod back, his head settled back against the bed with the same sort of ease one might give in response to a greeting. Clark then turned his attention to the only other person inside and smiled. “Hey birthday boy.”</p><p> </p><p>“You--” Marcos swallowed as he stood up from the stool. “You came.” He finished with a look of awe on his face.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Well, I told you I would, didn’t I?” Clark approached the counter and set the bag on top of it. “I didn't get a cake or anything, but I figured you’d like this stuff, so, happy birthday.”</p><p> </p><p>“You didn’t have to get me anything…” Marcos said with that same sense of false modesty that most people displayed when they received a present they secretly wanted. That act of course went out the window the moment he peered inside. “No way.” He muttered as he riffled through the bag and began pulling out its contents. “You got me a-- but they-- and the games--” all of a sudden he turned a fierce frown up towards Clark. “You told me you were broke!”</p><p> </p><p>Clark only shrugged a shoulder. “Only marginally.”</p><p> </p><p>Marcos rolled his eyes at the cooment and upon looking over the games he head shook in disbelief. “This is too much, Clark, I can't accept this.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
He blew a raspberry. “Uh, like Hell you can't. What am I gonna do with it? I dunno how to play--” He picked up a random game, “‘Animal crossing’.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, that's not--” Marcos took a breath and looked down. “I just meant, this is a lot of money, and… I can't--”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Yes you can.” Clark said firmly. “I got this for you, for <em> your </em> birthday, so enjoy it.”</p><p> </p><p><br/>
“I--'' Clark could see the fact he wanted to argue, but perhaps sensing the losing battle ahead, wisely decided against it. After a moment, he sent a shy small towards Clark, and he didn’t need superpowers to hear the honesty in his next words. “Thank you, Clark… I love it.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Don’t mention it.” He said with a wave of the hand. His stomach felt warm as he watched Marcos pour over the games and he sent a look to the bag still on the counter. “Now, you gonna open your card?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Oh, there's a card?'' Marcos said as he looked into the bag once more, and this time spotted the white envelope pressed to the side. Clark had a feeling if he hadn’t mentioned it, it wouldn't have ever been spotted and knowing Clark’s luck, might have even ended up in the trash. Instead, Marcos lifted it out and opened it up.</p><p> </p><p>He pulled out the card, and upon opening it, a slip of paper fell out. Clark waited for him to read the short message inside, and watched as his eyes trailed along the words. “Dear Marcos, happy birthday, from Clark and… Blue?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Yeah...'' Clark muttered as he cleared his throat. It had sounded less dumb when he wrote it but now, hearing it out loud, it only made his face hot with embarrassment. “This present is sort of from his as well.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“What? You mean the games?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“No, the cheque.”</p><p> </p><p>Marcos looked dubious as he picked up the slip of paper that had fallen onto the counter, and not even a second later he dropped it, retracting his hand like it had been burnt. “What the fuck? What the <em> fuck</em>, Clark?”</p><p> </p><p>Yesterday, whilst Blue had been asleep, Clark sailed out to Sacramento to collect his new bankcard, and whilst looking over his accounts, found that a large sum of money had already been deposited by the Dalton’s. Whilst he’d had this idea for an ‘extra’ present for a while-- from the moment he’d heard Marcos utter the word ‘bills,’ in fact-- he didn’t fully realise it until he was about to leave the bank and instead turned around and spoke to a clerk about opening a checking account. Now, he was here, using his first cheque in four years.</p><p> </p><p>“Long story short, Blue found a bunch of pirate gold a couple weeks back and I got it evaluated and it may or may not have been worth a lot.” Clark said with a flourish of the hand. “So, happy birthday!”</p><p> </p><p>“This is--” Marcos picked up the cheque again and this time Clark could see how his hands were shaking as his eyes reread the words on it. “This says it's for two hundred thousand dollars.”</p><p> </p><p>“It would have been more but i'm still waiting for the rest of the money to come into my account.” Clark sat down on the stool in front of the counter, and without asking, reached for one of the cans of cola there. He cracked it open and took a sip. “But yeah, I figured two hundred thousand would be enough for your dads bills, at least for now, but obviously if you need more, we can cross that bridge when we come to it.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“My dad’s--” Marcos looked up at him then, his eyes filling with tears. “You-- but this-- I--”</p><p> </p><p>Clark held up his hand before any more half sentences could come out. “Marcos, i'm going to say this one last time, and once i’m done talking you are going to respond with another ‘thank you’ and that’s it, no ‘I can’t accept this’ or ‘this is too much’. You’re a good kid, and at the end of the day, I wanted to do this for you, okay?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Marcos’ mouth opened, and after a few seconds of bobbing lips and shaky breaths, he heard it, a quiet, “thank you.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“You’re welcome.” Clark responded in turn before taking another sip of cola. “Now, you gonna play one of your games or are we just gonna sit here doing nothing?”</p><p> </p><p>After that, Marcos unboxed his console and games with unbridled glee. He picked one of the games and put the cartridge into the console before turning it on, he then lent across the counter and showed Clark the screen. He watched it with the same interest he was sure most adults exhibited when being shown something that was far beyond their comprehension. He just hoped that he sounded at least a little bit invested as Marcos started telling him about the different kinds of fruit trees.</p><p> </p><p>It was about half an hour later that the front door bell chimed. Almost immediately, Marcos slid his console out of view, but the moment he saw who was at the door, he brought it back. “Oh, hey Barbara, what are you doing here?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Uh, did you forget it's your birthday or…?” She walked in and sent Clark a small smile. “Hey, Clark.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Hey, Barb.” He said with a nod, his eyes then went to the cupcake in her hands. “That for me?”</p><p> </p><p>She rolled her eyes. “Haha, very funny.” She said as she walked to the counter and set the cake down. After producing a lighter from her pocket, she lit the candle on it and slid it over to Marcos. “Happy birthday, Marcos! Now blow it out and make a wish.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Thanks, Barbara.” He said with a smile, before leaning over and blowing it out. He then lifted the cake and took a bite. After swallowing, he let out a hum of appreciation. “This is amazing.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why, thank you.” She said with a small bow. “So, are we still on for later?”</p><p> </p><p><br/>
“Right, about that--'' Marcos set the cake down, his eyes settling on the cheque still on the counter. He covered it with his hand before looking to Barbara and giving his best nonchalant shrug. “I was thinking I could shut the shop early and we could all hang out now. That is, if everyone’s still free.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Yeah?” Barbara said, raising a brow. “But I thought you said you had to work all day?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Yeah, but you also said Dick and Jason are heading back to Sacramento tonight so if we’re all gonna hang, I figured it would be better to do it earlier rather than later, you know?”</p><p> </p><p>“I guess.” Barbara said, her tone rife with suspicion. “As long as you’re sure, I don't want you getting in trouble. Dick and Jay said they can hang for a little bit before they go, so like, don’t think you have to close early for them.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Marcos smiled then, a genuine one filled with mirth. “Seriously, it’s cool.”</p><p> </p><p><br/>
Barbara still didn’t look convinced, but that didn’t last long as she gave a shrug and started walking towards the door. “Well, okay then, i'll get Jay and Dick. You know where their beach is, right? I'll grab the stuff from my place and meet you there.” Barbara sent another nod to Clark. “See you around, Clark.”<br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>“See you, Barbara.” </p><p> </p><p>After the jingle sounded Clark turned to Marcos, a brow raised. “So, little birthday get together, eh?”</p><p> </p><p>Marcos gave a faint blush. “It's not like that.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“I dunno…” Clark said with a smile. “Barbara is a very pretty girl, and you’re a very handsome lad. I can see it happening.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“She’s also very into Dick, and I’m…” Marcos’ blush grew. “Not.” </p><p> </p><p>Clark frowned. “Not into Dick?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“No no, I’m into dick.” Marcos said almost absent mindedly, before his face grew beat red. “What I meant to say is--”</p><p> </p><p>As Marcos’ mouth bobbed open and closed, Clark fought back a grin, with limited success. “What you meant to say is…?” He prompted.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s…” he looked away. “Jason.” He whispered.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Jason?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“I like… Jason.”</p><p><br/>
“You--” It took a moment for Clark to process the words, but when he did, he shook his head. “No.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“No what?” Marcos asked.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“No, you’re too good for him.” Clark crossed his arms. “I forbid it.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Marcos smiled at that, and almost immediately whatever embarrassment he seemed to exhibit, was gone. “Come on, he’s really sweet.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“To you maybe, to me, he's an asshole.”</p><p> </p><p><br/>
“How do you know that?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“How do you think I know? I met him on his family’s beach, and he was an asshole.” </p><p> </p><p>“Wait.” Marcos pulled back then, a wide grin spreading across his face. “No way. Were you the homeless looking guy on the beach?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark’s eyebrows raised. “<em>Homeless looking? </em> ” He repeated incredulously.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Marcos laughed then, and it sounded all the louder from echoing around the empty store. “<em>Oh my God </em> , when he told us about this homeless guy who was giving him attitude, me and Barb were trying to figure out who it could be, I never would have thought it was you!” Marcos wiped his eyes then. “That’s so funny.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark looked down at himself. “I go out of my way to buy new clothes and get called ‘homeless looking.’” He muttered. “Great.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Aww.” Marcos said, smiling. “Don’t be like that, Jason didn’t mean it.”</p><p> </p><p>“If you say so.” Clark said, unconvinced.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“It’s true.'' Marcos said, stepping away from the counter. He went for his jacket and after slipping his wallet and the cheque into his pockets he whistled and Lindo got up from his bed. “Dick told me Jason’s tough guy act, is just that, an act. He’s actually a big softie deep down under all the attitude.”</p><p> </p><p>“They’re close friends then I take it?”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Well, yeah, they’re brothers.” Marcos said as stuffed his hands into his pockets.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Clark balked. “<em>Brothers </em>? Wait, that means...” he made a face, he didn’t want to know what that meant.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, they’re mom had them when she was young. They’re twins, apparently.” Marcos shrugged his shoulders. “Non identical obviously. I mean, they look nothing alike.”</p><p> </p><p><br/>
Clark wondered if the person he’d seen talking with Barbara had been the boy in question. He didn’t exactly get a good look at him, but he saw enough to know Marcos was correct. He and Jason barely looked like they could pass for cousins, let alone brothers. In the end Clark didn’t say much to the revelation, not that he felt he should have done. He barely knew Selina, and beyond their conversation on the beach, he barely knew Jason as well. He hoped to keep it that way, as he felt more contact with the strange family than necessary would be a bad idea. Something about their eyes, that’s what had him dubious. There was something in their gaze that had him on edge.</p><p> </p><p>He was so consumed by the thought that it took Marcos coming right up beside him and rocking on his heels to pull him from it. He saw Marcos’ appearance and was finally able to put everything together; the jacket, Lindo and the keys now in his hands. He stood up and clapped his hands together. “Right then, i'll get out of your hair.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“You could come too, you know, if you wanted.” Marcos said, escorting Clark to the door.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Hum... a party with a bunch of teenagers?” Clark asked himself thoughtfully, before turning to Marcos and smiling. “Thanks, but I think i'll pass.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Hey, i'm not a teenager anymore.” Marcos beamed.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“God, you’re right. You’re an adult.” Clark shivered. “The world really is a strange place...”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“Haha.” Marcos said, and after Lindo trotted out, he locked the door to the store behind him and slid down the shutters. “Now, I'm gonna head that way.” He said, pointing down the main street that led towards Walter’s development. “I’ll see you around, Clark.”</p><p> </p><p>“Take care, Marcos.” He said before he crouched down to pat Lindo’s head. “You keep him safe, Lindo.”<br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>The dog barked and with that the pair made their way up the street. Clark watched them for a while and only once he saw Marcos walk into the small bank on his way up the street did he continue on his way to the marina. </p><p> </p><p>Despite the date, Clark felt great. So much so that he couldn’t help the small pang of guilt he felt as a result. He tried to ignore it, and remind himself of why he was feeling good in the first place. Seeing Marcos happy, knowing that his birthday was all the better for him showing up, that was what fueled him so that was what he focused on.</p><p> </p><p>By the time he returned home, he half expected Blue to be back at the island, but that wasn’t the case. He must have still been out swimming, but Clark assumed he was making up for time spent stuck inside, and most likely wouldn't be back till later.</p><p> </p><p>Now that he was alone and had done his duties for the day, he allowed himself to do what he normally did on this day. He took a deep breath and went towards the treeline, walking through them until he came upon the meadow. After making his way towards the graves, he lay down across the grass and looked up towards the sky. “Happy birthday, Lois.” He said, closing his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>He trained his ears towards the sound of the wind, hoping somehow in and amongst it there would be a response. There wasn’t, of course. There hadn’t been the previous times he had done this either, and yet, he always held out hope one day that would change. He opened his eyes and stared at a lone cloud drifting along and turned his head slightly towards the graves. “It’s Marcos’ birthday today, too.” He said softly.</p><p> </p><p>“That's why I'm a little late today.” He said, folding his hands across his stomach. “I didn’t forget or anything. Promise.” </p><p> </p><p>More silence, though Clark felt his breath hitch as a breeze rolled through the meadow. The leaves rustled softly. He smiled at it. “I’ll sit with you both for a little while, but then i’m gonna head back. I bet you’re both busy up there, anyways… you think Perry got you the right cake this time, Lo?” And despite how his eyes began to water, he smiled.</p><p> </p><p>Another breeze and this time, he felt it across his face, gentle, like a soft breath. He closed his eyes and allowed the feeling of it to wash over him. </p><p> </p><p>He lost track of time as he half dozed on the grass. Eventually, he cracked his eyes open and saw the sky had grown darker, bringing a chill right along with it. He sat up then, turning his head slightly towards the wooden plaque. He set his palm gently on top of it. “Alright, i'm heading back now. Take care you two, and holler if you need me.” </p><p> </p><p>He got up and began to walk. As he left the trees and stepped back out onto the beach, he was briskly brought back to the here and now. He often forgot himself whilst in the meadow, but watching the waves and knowing who was out in them allowed him to put the past back where it was meant to be, at least for the time being. </p><p> </p><p>As he walked further across the sand he noticed someone now under the jetty. He smiled as he approached the water and as he did he saw movement, the mer stirred and poked his head out above the surface, sending a glance towards Clark.</p><p> </p><p>“Howdy.” Clark said as he watched the mer swim the short distance back to shore, and crawl his way out of the water. “You have a nice swim today?”</p><p> </p><p>Blue chirped once, giving a nod. </p><p> </p><p>“That’s good.'' Clark said, sitting down on the floor and letting Blue come up close beside him. “Cottonwood was nice. Marcos liked his presents.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
At the words Clark half expected Blue to begin his usual grumbling, but instead he brought his hand to his face, and pointed. At first, Clark was confused by the gesture but all at once realisation hit and his mouth fell open. He heaved a sigh. “God, I knew I was forgetting something...”</p><p> </p><p>Despite his obvious lack of beef, Blue didn’t look annoyed this time, and only pointed at his mouth once more before pointing at Clark. “Yeah, I don't have any.” Clark said, pulling out his pockets as though to further illustrate his point. </p><p> </p><p>But Blue simply repeated the gesture, and then came forward.</p><p> </p><p>Clark is somewhat ashamed to admit it took him an extraordinary long time to figure out what was going on; in fact, it was after a solid minute of Blue’s lips pressed against his that he let out a quiet of ‘oh’ of realisation. “You just wanted a kiss.” Clark said as he pulled back.</p><p> </p><p>Blue shook his head, and then fell to the side, laying his back across the sand like he had earlier that morning though, this time, unlike all the other times he acted strangely, there was no hint of mischievousness in his gaze, only a intense burning that Clark starkly realised he recognised as well.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Oh </em>.” Was all he said, and the moment he said it, Blue brought his hands to his stomach, stroking the skin along there as his eyes remained firmly on Clark.</p><p> </p><p><br/>
“Uh.” Clark added, after the first utterance. He’d hoped more words would follow but apparently his mind was in short supply of them given how focused it was on keeping his eyes firmly glued to Blue midsection.</p><p> </p><p><em> So this is what mer seduction is like </em>, Clark thought absently as he went into his second minute of not blinking. He supposed he should have expected Blue to rely more so on his body when it came to these things, given his ability to speak was on par with a mountain goat. Despite this, Clark was not at all prepared for it. After all, it was a complete 180 for them; to go from bared teeth and screeching, to rolling along the sand and purring was so jarring that it felt as though Clark’s brain had simply short circuited.</p><p> </p><p>As he watched, Clark realised he really didn’t have any chance of ever avoiding this from happening. The more he thought about it, the more he found that everything the mer did intrigued him in some way. His primal anger, his constant princess act, this current bout of blatant seduction. All of it culminated into something that ordinarily would put Clark right off, and yet, here he was, drooling like a senior at prom as he watched the mer move.</p><p> </p><p>That, coincidentally, was what promptly caused Clark to wipe his mouth before the saliva stream became too prominent. After moving for the first time in several minutes, Blue quirked his head at him, a quiet purr leaving him. Clark had to swallow down the liquid that suddenly pooled in his mouth lest cause any further dribbling and after doing so, he looked at the mer, and cleared his throat. “Are you… are you?” <em> Are you what? </em>Clark wanted to hit himself sometimes, and yet apparently he wasn’t even capable of that given his current inability to speak, let alone move.</p><p> </p><p>Blue shifted across the sand once more. His eyes half lidded, and his lip between his teeth. He gave another purr and Clark swallowed thickly. “So just to clarify, you wish to--” he cleared his throat again when his voice hitched, “do <em>what</em> exactly?”</p><p> </p><p>Blue watched him, and after a single ear twitch, rolled his eyes and sat up. His hand went to Clark’s waist band, and rested there, his claw hanging around the elastic and tugging at it slightly. Clark recognized the movement, he’d done it before.</p><p> </p><p>Clark stared at that hand for longer than necessary. <em> Was he…? </em></p><p> </p><p>“You want to… uh… my…” Clark trailed off, unsure what the rest of that sentence would even be had he finished it. He watched the mer for a little while longer, but his hand never moved, opting instead to stay exactly where it was. Was he waiting for Clark to make the first move? If that was the case he’d be waiting a while, Clark’s mind was still bogged down with what was going on, that movement was pretty low on the priority list.</p><p> </p><p>If he was making a pass at Clark, it wouldn’t exactly be coming out of left field. They weren’t exactly blushing middle schoolers here, and their relationship had definitely gone beyond the point of just ‘two pals, palling it up’. They’d kissed, the mer-- accidental of no-- had seen his cock (and also happened to rub up against it, as well). Realistically, Clark was aware this was the next step; to actually, you know, do what everyone had been accusing him of doing since the mer came into his life. </p><p> </p><p>Clark barely even realised he was doing it, but he brought his hands to his waist band, and slowly slid the fabric down.</p><p> </p><p>Blue’s eyes immediately went to his cock, and the undue attention already had him growing hard. The mer made a noise, like he had this morning, that same low purr that went straight to Clark’s gut, and he bit his lip to prevent anything more obscene than a shaky breath leaving him. The mer wasn’t even doing anything yet, just looking, and already Clark could feel his body growing clammy as though something much more salacious was occurring, perhaps because he was anticipating just that.</p><p> </p><p>Then mer pointed at his mouth once more, and Clark swallowed. “I uh…” Clark let go of his waistband, and then with nothing to occupy his hands he began to wring them. “I don’t understand…” he said lamely, despite getting a very clear idea of what was being asked of him.</p><p> </p><p>The mer did it then, he moved, and despite Clark thinking he’d be ready for it, he still jerked away, stumbling backwards onto the sand. With his legs half tied up in his shorts still, it was hardly elegant and sand flew up into the air as he fell. After a beat, he pushed himself up onto his elbows and looked at the mer’s surprised face. “Sorry,” Clark blurted, his cheeks beet red, “you just surprised me.”</p><p> </p><p>Blue titled his head, and raised a brow. Clark could hear the silent question as clear as day. <em> Do you want this? </em></p><p> </p><p>Did he? Well, obviously he did. The moment that stupidly perfect face came into his life he knew this was going to happen. But the real question was did he feel <em> ready </em> for this?</p><p> </p><p>That answer was no, a hard fat no, and yet his cock had other ideas.</p><p> </p><p>This time, as Blue approached him he moved even slower, like a predator approaching its prey and that analogy did little to lessen Clark’s rapidly hardening cock. By the time Blue’s hands came to rest across his thighs he was hard, and his lip was firmly wedged between his teeth once more.</p><p> </p><p>Blue looked at him then, and his hand went to Clark’s cock, but stopped just short. His eyebrow raised once more, and Clark found he could do little more than nod or shake his head. One would end this right here and now, and the other would let it continue.</p><p> </p><p>He chose the latter. </p><p> </p><p>The moment he felt his touch, he gasped. Clark hadn’t thought it would feel so alien, but it did. His own hand he knew intimately, and whilst he was definitely not inexperienced, it had been a very long time since he’d felt someone else's touch. So much so, that he felt his eyes begin to water to the point he had to crush them shut. <em> Don’t think about that, </em> he told himself. <em> Stay here. Stay in the now. </em></p><p> </p><p>Blue didn’t move for a while, and when Clark cracked an eyelid open, he realised why. He was watching him, his brow still raised in silent question. Clark hoped his face didn’t convey any of the turmoil occurring internally, but it must have done if the faint sigh Blue gave was anything to go by. He let go, and if anything the lack of touch had Clark growing more panicked. “No,” he blurted, “Please, don’t stop, I--” he didn’t finish his sentence, and he didn’t need to apparently, as Blue then chose to point towards his mouth. Clark swallowed, “are you…?”<br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>The mer didn’t wait this time, leaning forward over Clark and taking his cock in his mouth in one fell swoop. Clark didn’t even have time to be surprised with how thoroughly it took the breath out of him. He didn’t know the exact name of the sound he made, but he made it, and he could almost feel the mer smile around him as he back to move.</p><p> </p><p>The only thought that entered Clark’s mind in the moment was the word ‘teeth.’ He had been worried about the mers teeth in such a delicate area, and despite knowing he wouldn’t be able to hurt him, the discomfort was enough of a deterrent. Much like sand, sharp teeth on the dick are not conducive to a happy orgasm. </p><p> </p><p>But there were no teeth, with each slide of his mouth, Clark only felt the warm slickness of a tongue, and a vibration that had his mind reeling. He was making that sound again, but this time Clark wasn’t just hearing it, he was feeling it, and with each purr Clark's breath grew faster and louder. “Oh <em> fuck </em>.” He let out, his feet curling into the sand beneath them.</p><p> </p><p>The mer’s grip tightened around his thighs, his claws digging into the flesh there, holding him steady. There was a briskness to his movements, and as Clark watched him move he could see how flushed his face was. The sight, the feeling of it was all mounting and just when Clark thought he had a good handle on it all, Blue’s eyes flicked up, and the moment he saw them Clark let out a choked gasp. “Fuck--” he yelled, after which a long string of other expletives followed. He fell back against the sand then, looking up into the sky as his mind and body took a breather after the marathon they’d both just performed.</p><p> </p><p>Blue slid off of him then. Clark not only felt, but heard it. A wet pop that went right to his groin despite what it had just gone through. After a moment, he came into view above Clark, licking his lips. With an easy smile, he lowered himself and pressed them against Clark’s. He could taste the salt of the ocean as well as something far more personal, and he let out a breathy laugh. “That was…” when Blue pulled back, quirking his head. He continued. “Good.”</p><p> </p><p>With that, Blue made another sound now, and fell beside Clark, stretching out once more. </p><p> </p><p>Clark sat up on an elbow and watched him, but this time as he took in Blue’s body he noticed something was now diffirent. “<em>Oh. </em>” he said, his throat growing dry.</p><p> </p><p>He knew, logically, mer’s had to have genitals. Either they’d be like Clark’s or they’d be something more alien, but either way, he knew they had to have them for basic evolutionary reasons.</p><p> </p><p>He just hadn’t put much thought as to what they would actually <em>look</em> like.</p><p> </p><p>A tentacle. That was what Clark would describe what he was seeing. A tentacle was coming out of Blue and he didn’t know what to do with that information. </p><p> </p><p>Obviously he knew it wasn’t a tentacle in the traditional sense. It didn’t have suction cups or anything, it was actually completely smooth, and a bright shade of pink that Clark was definitely not expecting. It was also wiggling, twitching from side to side across Blue’s front in such a way that it almost looked like it could be alive.</p><p> </p><p>Apparently Blue was not a fan of Clark’s lack of movement and stunned silence as he gave a loud whine that morphed into a hiss. Clark bowed his head in embarrassment. “Sorry, i'm just… taking it in.” He said, his eyes flicking once more to the appendage.</p><p> </p><p>It wiggled and Blue made a sound of frustration as he brought it hand to it. Almost immediately, it curled around his arm, and Clark's mouth fell open and despite it all, he felt his body growing warm once more. “Can I…?” he began, and at the words, Blue quirked a brow. “Can I touch it?” He finished.</p><p> </p><p>Blue pursed his lips before nodding once and letting go. Without his hand there, his penis returned to roaming around, and only once Clark gingerly brought his fingers out to touch it, did it now curl around him.</p><p> </p><p>He was surprised by the pressure. He didn’t know dicks could have a strong grip, but here one was, holding onto him with the same zeel as someone giving a particularly hearty handshake. Clark returned the favour, tightening the grip of his hand, and at the sensation, Blue’s head fell back, a long series of cries spilling out. </p><p> </p><p>Clark couldn’t help but smile at the sight. He tried to slide his hand up and down, but the grip he was dealing with made that virtually impossible. Instead, he opted to tighten and loosen his own grip, changing the length or time or pressure of each press, and his grin only grew as Blue’s movements turned from simple wiggles to full on thrashing.</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t know what compelled him, but he let go, and even though he was prepared for the screeching Blue would send his way, he still winced when it began. He didn’t have to deal with it for long though, as he brought his head down until his lips touched his cock.</p><p> </p><p>Now, if Clark were to write a list of all the good ideas he’d ever had in life, he knew what would make the top of the list and what would make the bottom. Those rarely changed, with most new ideas falling into the middle somewhere. There had never been an idea that had upon first inception seemed like it would be right near the top, only for a moment later to plummet to the bottom.</p><p> </p><p>Until now.</p><p> </p><p>Blue’s cock, slid down his throat so quickly, and so violently, that Clark gagged around it. He knew if he needed to breathe, he wouldn't be able to with his entire esophagus being filled by Blue. It also didn’t help that the mer had now taken to holding his head in place, as his cock wriggled around inside him. He was sure had he been human, either the damage to his throat or the lack of air would have ended him and in the moment Clark really couldn't decide which was worse.</p><p> </p><p>Blue was screaming with each trash of his body so right along with the burning pain in his throat, his ears were now along for the ride. Thankfully, the whole affair didn’t last that long and after about a minute, and one final scream, Blue lay limp beneath him.</p><p> </p><p>He grimaced as he pulled away and felt Blue's cock slide out. He had to take a moment to compose himself and after a few deep breaths, he felt he had just that.</p><p> </p><p>After that, his own arousal had been dealt with rather thoroughly, and the only thing he could think of to console himself was that he would <em>never</em> be doing that again.</p><p> </p><p>But seeing how blissful Blue looked made that same thought morph into, <em> ‘okay, maybe on special occasions. But that’s it.’ </em></p><p> </p><p>Clark let out a shaky breath, as he looked down at the mer. “You alright there?” He said, surprised at how thoroughly wrecked his voice sounded.</p><p> </p><p>Blue nodded, a tired grin on his face. He brought his hand up to touch Clark’s cheek and made a quiet purr. Clark himself let out a sigh before returning his own smile. “You could have warned me your cock had a mind of its own, you know. I think I nearly died there.”</p><p> </p><p>Blue huffed at that, and even though Clark wasn’t expecting any more concern given his usual penchant for acting disinterested, he sat up and placed his hand on Clark’s stomach. He then looked up to Clark and raised a brow.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
“It didn’t go that far down.” Clark said. “Luckily.” he added, before bringing his own hand there, and for a moment, he could have sworn he felt a warm tingle in his stomach. </p><p> </p><p>As the seconds ticked by, he realised he was not mistaken. His stomach was tingling, growing hot even, and it wasn’t just his stomach, his face, his chest, his, well, everywhere felt warm.</p><p> </p><p>He gave a heady laugh. “I feel weird...” he muttered to the mer, who’s expression could only be described as apologetic. "No, I feel better than weird, I feel..."</p><p> </p><p>He felt great, better than great, he felt like he could conquer the world. He stood up and shook the shorts from his legs, before taking off his shirt as well. It would only slow him down, he thought. “I'm gonna get some ice cream.” He said before walking a few paces and falling back to the ground, ass up. “This is terrible ice cream.” He muttered into the sand.</p><p> </p><p>Blue came up beside him, and turned him over, that same grim look of apology on his face. He said something then, and Clark groaned. “I can't hear you when you mumble. Speak up.”</p><p> </p><p>"̷I̴ ̶s̷a̴i̶d̵,̷ ̵m̶y̷ ̶s̸e̵m̷e̷n̴ ̴h̴a̵s̴ ̶p̴s̴y̵c̸h̵o̸t̸r̶o̵p̷i̷c̴ ̴p̸r̶o̴p̵e̷r̸t̸i̴e̴s̸,̴ ̶y̷o̶u̵ ̸n̵e̵e̷d̸ ̴t̵o̴ ̶s̸t̶a̵y̶ ̶p̵u̶t̸ ̵u̴n̵t̸i̷l̸ ̸i̵t̸ ̵w̸e̸a̴r̷s̸ ̶o̵f̶f̸.̴"̵</p><p> </p><p>Clark shook his head wildly from side to side. “That’s crazy, why have you got weird semen? What other weird stuff are you hiding from me, huh?” He blew a raspberry. “You’re a weird guy, Bruce. You’re lucky I love you.”</p><p> </p><p>"̶J̵u̸s̶t̴ ̶s̵l̵e̸e̴p̵,̸ ̶C̴l̴a̶r̷k̴,̶ ̵w̴h̶e̷n̶ ̴y̸o̶u̵ ̷w̴a̵k̸e̵ ̴u̴p̴,̴ ̴y̷o̶u̶'̸l̵l̷ ̶f̴e̷e̷l̶ ̵b̸e̶t̴t̵e̸r̴.̶"̵</p><p> </p><p>“But I want ice cream.” He whined.</p><p> </p><p>He knew the perfect ice cream shop and everything, he only hoped they were open. They should be, it was a Wednesday after all, but then again, Metropolis businesses often had strange work schedules, he wouldn’t put it past them being closed today. </p><p> </p><p>He tried to fly to it, but when he went to move, he realised he couldn’t.</p><p> </p><p>So instead, he promptly passed out.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Welp, I hope this chapter was worth the wait ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)</p><p>I know updates are getting less frequent, but lock down has ended here in England which means I'm back to full time work, and as such my motivation has taken a huge hit. I just ask that you are patient, and bare with me, I am trying &lt;3</p><p>As always let me know your thoughts, I love your comments and they really are what keep me going. Take care, and catch you all next time &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote><div class="children module" id="children">
  <b class="heading">Works inspired by this one:</b>
  <ul>
    <li>
        <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29644836">Bruce and Clark Under the Sea</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGothamKnight/pseuds/TheGothamKnight">TheGothamKnight</a>
    </li>
  </ul>
</div></div></div>
</body>
</html>